Thisbees reply

It ill becomes, quoth he, your peerelesse state,
with silly maides to be importunate:
You should protect our weaknesse and defend
our brittle sexe, and euer be a friend
To womans weake proceedings, ceasing still
to drawe deuoted Virgins to your will:
We that are consecrate to Vestas shrine,
must in no lasciuious meetings spend no time.
If thou (quoth he) to Vesta dedicate
thy vowes, thy hests: what mak'st the here so late?
For well I know dame Vesta cannot bide
her maides should walke alone in euening tide.
And those that meane to satisfie her will.,
must both be chast and feare suspicions ill.
Thysbe stood mute, she knew not what to say,
without reply she went a prety way
And could not answer, for her tripping tongue
and modest silence told she spoke a wrong.
For she nere Vesta lou'd nor Vestas order,
but this was best excuse the time afford'd her.
Churlish Syluanus (for he was a churle)
so to importune a poore Countrie girle,
Halfe mad with anger that she would not yeeld
vnto his suite: takes in his hand his shield,
And raging sternely, sweares he meanes to goe,
where he will plunge her in a depth of woe.
Are you so coy (quoth he) that youle denie,
to ioine with gods immortall deitie?
Wele learn young girles manners if we liue,
and make them ew, that they our power should grieue
With this he went fast croting vp the hill,
pursuing hot the proiect of his will.
Intending to command some sauage beast,
vpon her, whom he lou'd, he lik'd to feast.
And reaching neere vnto the hill aboue,
he wagg'd his hand, and ask'd if she would loue?
But she denied him loue: doe you denie me?
fond? quoth Syluanus, sauages shall trie thee,
And thy affection: which no sooner said,
then he sent out a Lion to this Maide.
A Lion new returnde from rauening pray,
came to the fount, his blood to wash away.
Where with a shaking pace he seem'd to come
towards the place appointed Ninus tombe.
But Luna pitting poore Thysbes case,
sends out her light, to tell her who it was
That now approach'd her, whom no sooner spide,
then in a Caue, poore Thysbe did her hide.
But out alasse for feare, she ran so fast,
that she forgot her tire through too much hast:
For she all breathlsse, and quite out of winde,
running so fast did leaue her tire behind.
And as one carelesse of her weale or woe,
distressed thus, she knew not were to goe,
Carelesse of what she left or what she had,
not knowing what was good, from what was bad.
Yet nature grafts in all a natiue feare,
by which th' euent of all things doe appeare,
As we conceaue yeeld daunger to our state,
and feare by time, lest we should feare too late.
Thus she pent vp within a desart caue,
with sobs & sighes, expresse what she would haue,
For in that Caue she wish'd her loue were there,
For loues embraces would exempt her feare.
Oft did she thinke the Lion staid without,
and therefore trembling Thysbe made a doubt,
To take the open ayre, but pent within,
wish'd in her heart, she had caractred him,
Whom she admires and loues, whose sweet respect,
makes her to haue her parents in neglect.
But he too slow, aye me, too slow in doing,
being so forward in his formall woing:
Staies too too long, being more warely kept,
by such sharpe keepers, that all night nere slept:
But as one grasing Hart the rest doth keepe,
by watchfull eyes warning the rest that sleepe;
So euer one was waking, that might call
vpon the rest if any thing befall:
The Lion hauing quencht his scorching thirst,
with springing water which he long'd for first:
Found Thysbes tyre, and with his bloody pray,
besmeard the same, which done, he went away.
Now in the end Pyramus tooke a time,
a time too late to answere loue diuine:
Yet in this silent course of nighterne race,
with quick recourse he runs vnto the place.
z So that to see him frolick ore the plaine,
were worth more prise then z Hipodamias gaine
For golden apples drew her tempting eie,
But this young youth affects no vanity
But the true touch of loue: vaine, if abused
but precious as pure gold, if rightly vsed.
Then who wil blame vs, labours to endure,
if we hy labours can our loue make sure?
For constant loue no trauaile will eschew,
that constant loue by trauaile may renew.
Alcides he can serue the Lidian queene,
in spinning, carding, which doe ill beseeme
So stout a mirrors magnanimity,
but he must doe it, theres no remedy.
For when his manly nature did withstand it,
one glance of her could wel enough command it.
No spacious cofines nor indurate labour,
if these ore-past, could purchase ere her fauour,
Would he refuse: one smile reward enough,
for all the labours he had passed through.
Thysbe the trophe of his breathing course,
Thysbe the garland which doth him enforce.
Her he respects, and whiles he runs apace,
he meditates of Thysbes beuteous face;
Her comely feature made for Adons shrine,
whose Iuory orbs like Pelops shoulders shine,
Had made that deep impression in his heart,
that Nature seem'd to striue with Natures Art.
Nature had giuen her much, Art much the more,
Art decking that which Nature dres'd before.
For that same creature cannot perfect be,
where Art and nature ioyne not mutuallie.
If you would haue the module of true wit,
Nature creates, but Art must polish it.
Thysbe was perfect both in Natures ew,
and artificiall colours, which did shew,
As if both Art and Nature should contend
to make her such an one no skill could mend;
For she was witty pregnant, full of fauour,
Dictinna like, sent out a fragrant sauour,
That when she walkt' in Babilons faire streete,
she made the kennel with her perfumes sweet.
Pyramus comming, comming all too late,
to Ninus tombe expects his bewteous mate.
Whom when he could not finde, he fear'd her end.
Feare is an adiunct to a faithfull friend.
Roundly he goes vnto the siluer spring,
where all the water-nimphs were wont to sing,
In honour of their Goddesse and her bewty,
to whom they offred hymnes as was their duty.
He ask'd the Nimphes if they his Thysbe knew,
describing her, and eke her matchlesse hew:
And if they did, he praid them seeke about
their Nectar springs with him to finde her out,
For if you be immortall, as you seeme,
and dedicate your seruice to your Queen,
A beter seruice sure you cannot doe her,
then to redrsse them owe their seruice to her.
This if you will in your compassion doe,
I sweare each morne Ile offer thime to you.
Better then any Hyble, can affoord,
with musick sweete to which the heauens accord,
And euer rest deuoted to your shrine,
in that you dayn'd to glad this heart of mine.
The water-nimphs replide with curtuous cheere,
they knew none such, nor any did apeare,
But if it pleasd him, they their springs would seeke,
exquire each bushie shade, each priuate creeke,
To see if she were in their mansions hid,
which he assented to; all which they did:
But when with watrie tripping they had sought
both brake and brier; yet could not finde her out,
Wearied with their diurnall labour, left
Pyramus sighing, of all ioy beret;
Yet did these nimphes bemone his hard mishap,
for sitting downe vnder Nereus lap,
They turnd their Warbling strings to that sad straine,
that all the woods re-eccoed them againe.
Each in their order sung their dolefull verse,
as if it had been ouer Thysbes hearse,
And tun'd their odes with that vnseasoned time,
as that brute beasts to pittie did incline,
For they in sable colours did portend,
that their two loues were neere a tragick end.
Thus shadie night, Sea-nimphs, stars, plan'ts & all
presage to them and to their loues a fall.
Yet Pyramus though sad, for he was sad
to haue those hopes extinguisht, which he had,
Seeks still about the tombe: sad tombe (quoth hee)
that hides my loue, so much admir'd of me:
Yet if thou wilt but tell me where she is,
I vow by Heauens Ile pardon whats amisse,
Yea I'le remit thine error and thy wrong,
for keeping her within thy chest so long,
Say, wilt thou tell me what became of her?
Didst thou her bewty in thy shrine inter?
Didst thou immure her in thy marble toombe?
what makes thee silent? bewty makes thee dumb:
Wilt thou so wrong a louer to conceale,
From him the mirrour of his ioy his, weale,
His heart, his liking euen the flower of youth?
and yet conceiues within thy heart no ruth.
Fie, fie for shame: ist fit that monuments
should so ecclipse natures best ornaments?
As to obscure the glory of her face,
that where she is giues honor to the place.
Thou much abstracts from trophies Ninus won,
in doing that which he would nere haue done.
Thou lessens much the honour he obtained,
loosing that fame which Ninus conquests gained.
For what great gaine or conquest i'st t'haue said,
I haue possession of a countrey maide.
A young vnnurtur'd girle fit for men,
vnfit for liuelesse tombes which couer them?
This said this doting young man, blind with louing,
thinking ould mouldy shrines had liuely mouing.
Mou'd with her loue, whom he did more esteeme,
then any gem that ere on earth was seene.
But when he saw into his error well,
He seem'd those loue-sick passions to dispell,
And to repaire vnto his search againe,
seeking each couert, each vnhaunted plaine,
Each thick-set hill, each groue that he might finde,
the diapason of his troubled minde.
At last too soone, by seeking long he found,
(Thysbe) not Thysbe, but her tire on ground.
Vnhallowed ground, vnseasoned her attire,
to crosse the passions of an hot desire.
Oh now conceiue what sorrows gall his brest,
to see the tire of her he loued best,
Be smeard with bloud, for it all bloudy shews,
her sanguine colour tinct with Lyons iawes;
Oft would hee looke vpon it, and would kisse,
the tire besmear'd with blood, wishing it his,
His fate, his fortune, to remaine with her,
since his long absence thus had iniur'd her.
How to remaine (quoth he) since she is dead,
oppress'd by death, inclos'd in mourneful weede
How should I liue with her whose life is gone,
and hath left me (vnhappy me) alone.
Die, die, with her, with whom thou canst not liue,
For thou by dying shalt thy life repriue.
And haue her presence that enthroned is,
in perfect ioies of heauens Elisian blisse.
Yet stay awhile, this is not Thysbes tire,
stay there (fond wretch) against thy tongue a lyer.
This was her roabe, this was her comely weede,
which hauing lost her owner gins to bleede.
Oh Ioue what cause hadst thou thus to remoue
two, that had their intentions voud to loue,
Or why should thou this faire occasion show vs,
which being showne, dost seeke for to vndoe vs?
Be gods so iron-hearted, to require
constant affection with a dismall spite?
A sharpe reuenge it is, to set vs on,
and then to leaue vs when we are begun.
Did not high Ioue yeeld vs more hopes then these,
when he commanded Phoebus to sure ease,
For to diffuse his beames, bidding him go,
retire in hast vnto the shades below.
Calling for Luna to supply his place,
shrowding heauens lustre with her clowdy face.
That our escape suspected lesse might be,
by the darke vaile of nights obscurity.
But heauens I see, repine at our successe,
since Gods themselues by Fates haue shew'd no lesse,
To plunge my weale in woe, my loue in teares,
producing nought, but sighes, and fruitlesse feares.
Thou harsh tun'd Nemesis, thou tragicke ghost,
against whose acts my loue declaimeth most:
What cause hadst thou to sing this dolefull song,
vpon her herse that neuer did thee wrong?
She neuer raild against thy Soueraigne power,
but like an harmelesse doue, a fragrant flower;
Flourish'd secure at home, yeelding content,
by gracefull smiles, a maids best ornament:
She neuer curb'd thy rage, nor did she mell
with ought but loue, which made worst for her sell.
But Fates haue made the instrument of sinne,
respectlesse of our losse, so they may win.
The pretious spoyle of Thysbes bleeding soule,
whose sad mishap the plants themselues condole.
Yet thou remorselesse art, ill may betide thee,
that wold haue none to loue that liue beside thee.
Yet for all this thou canst not me depriue,
of louing her, whose life did mee reuiue,
For being dead, Ile rather chuse to die,
then liuing, lose her loving company.
This said: he takes her tyre, and kissing it,
vpon the fountaine banks did water it,
With dewie moisture of still-flowing teares,
which being shed, renuing drops appeares.
Teares liquefied the arbour where he sate,
which water nimphs perceiuing, wondred at.
Oft would he beat his brest, and teare his haire,
shutting his hopes in clouds of deepe despaire.
Oft would he curse the day, the houre, the night,
that banisht him from Thisbes gladsome sight.
Wishing that night had neuer beene descride,
for nere did night more harsh euents betide.
Oh Pyramus, and then he sigh'd to speake,
for gusts of sorrow made his hart-strings breake.
What meant thou to allure a simple maid,
to these vvild woods? her loue is well repaid,
That she should come vnto the place assignd,
and thou (base coward) come so farre behind.
Thou with a tardy pace came at thy leasure,
such slow-pac'd coursers ill deserue such pleasure,
Thou too precise, made bones of what thou did,
such fond precisenes seldome hath good speed.
Shee to enioy her ioy, cut off delay,
that she her minds perfection might display,
And with a course as quicke as Pegasus,
run ore these plaines to meet with Pyramus,
Which thou requited ill, basest of men,
which time shall character with scandalls pen.
A scandall to thy sexe, and to thy state,
to leaue thy loue in deserts desolate.
Oh what mishap had she to loue a swaine,
that could not yeeld her loue for loue againe?
Hard was her fortune to affect that creature,
who for a childish feare delaid to meet her.
The gods I know more forward would haue beene,
to meet loues Parragon, so faire a Queene.
As for her beauty, aye me, beauties faire,
with Ericina she might well compare;
And farre more modest: Venus had her mole,
but nere was Thysbe stain'd with bewties soile.
But thou hast stain'd her beauty by thy fault,
ruin'd that fort, which neuer had assault,
But by thy selfe, and by thy selfe too soone,
since by thy meanes her shrine is razed downe.
Turne thee to heauen, and loe the heauens dismaid,
to see the tragicke downefall of a maide:
Frowning at thee that was the cause of this,
causing her end that was thy Soueraigne blisse.
Turne thee to earth, and see her turn'd to earth,
which makes the caues below resound with mirth
That they enioy which thou didst once enioy,
reaping their comfort from thy deepe annoy.
Turne thee vnto the Sea, and thou shalt see,
The Nymphes and Syrens crying out 'gainst thee.
That should make promise, yet not promise hold,
calling thee coward, but thy Thysbe bold.
Bold to aduenture on the gloomy night,
bold to encounter with Latonas light.
Bold in her course, swift in her cursiue mouing,
bold to escape, and constant in her louing:
Thus heauen, earth, Sea, concording all in one,
do simpathize with thy discording mone.
And wilt thou liue for this? O doe not liue,
but to requite her loue, let earth receiue
This little All of thine: which when they haue,
they may interre two louers in one graue.
Adioyning to this fount, a rocke there was,
so steepe and craggy, that no man could passe.
To which wild beasts repair'd, making their den
in th'ollow caurnes which did couer them.
Which seene by him: what doe not louers see?
with face deiected, thus discoursed he.
If any Lion or fierce sauage Beare,
lodge in this ragged rocke, or coucheth neere,
Let him come out, for heere is amorous food,
9 and cooling streames to wash away our blood,
That this may beare record by euery wight,
two faithfull louers perisht on one night.
But these are but delaies which cowards vse,
10 their trembling passions seeking to excuse,
Cast off vaine feare, feare is a vassalls weede,
and place true Resolution in her steed.

She wil prescribe the rules, with fruits of woing,
for fruitlesse be those fruits that haue no doing.
We that doe hazard our good names for men,
if they'l not pleasure vs: what profit then,
Of all our toylsome labour we sustaine,
that reape no haruest from such gusts of pain
We patient are to beare, and what we bore,
we doe accept, and wish it ten times more,
That we might pleasure you: how fond are we?
The weaker sort beares your infirmity.
But its our Nature Nature hath ordain'd,
mans strngth by womans weaknesse is sustain'd.
In this same cloudy night, with what desire.
did all my thoughts, and my intents aspire?
To that same treasure thou hast promis'd me,
promise is debt, it must be kept by thee,
With what affection haue I cross'd these plaines,
cheered by wood-nimphs, singing plesant strain,
And dans'd Laualto till I came to thee,
longing for that which thou didst promise mee.
Sad Philomela skared from her rest,
sung with a pricking slothorne at her brest,
And sung of Tereus something, what I know not,
which if I knew, yet would I neuer show it.
12 For Tereus impious in his prophane life,
to wrong a sister, and so chast a wife.
Sustains the torture of his wickednesse,
transform'd into a Bird: whose filthinesse,
Loues marish places, flies the solid ground,
good reason why: his conscience was not sound.
13 For Tireus was a King and for his lust,
by Ioue himselfe, was from his scepter thrust.
A sensuall Prince to wanton motions stirr'd,
chang'd from a prince, vnto a loathsome bird,
Thus did I passe the silence of the night,
till I arriu'd within my louers sight,
Which yet I cannot doe: oh why should we,
14 to get a little sport, paune modesty?
These shady thickets, and that secret caue.
those pratling Sea-nimphes, & this marble graue,
Beare all record what trauell I haue taken,
yet like a Turtle of her make forsaken,
Cannot enioy my loue, aye me, vnkind,
that seemes inconstant, to a constant mind.
Why should our fauors so deuoted rest,
to them, whose hardned harts bred our vnrest?
And make vs subiect to more inward griefe,
then ere their comforts can affoord releefe.
But thou art too too rash: (beleeue me sweet,)
in more remisse Appearance doe I greete,
Thy diuine beauty; pardon what is said,
conceyue no harme spoke by a harmelesse maide;
For if thou should (as sur I thinke thou dost,)
lie hid vnder some bush, and hearst this nois'd,
This shrowd inueio, gainst thy loue and thee,
thou might as well condemne my speech and me.
Why should I speake against so hallowed shrine,
to whom I haue bequeath'd both me and mine?
Or why should I detract from that faire sunne,
vvhich (if ecclips'd) my glistring raies bee done?

For this same Tree, beares record of our wracke,
decolored quite from white, to dismall black,
And this same ground, all in a gore of bloud:
No chiping bird within this fatall wood,
And this for loue of him, that now is gone,
leauing his forlorne Thysbe all alone.
Hard was mine hap, to see his dolefull end,
at whose sad hearse the Fates themselues attend:
Hard was mine hap, more hash the course of time,
to crop my loue, my dazie in his prime.
Hard was his hap to extinguish his desire,
with apparition of a bloody tire:
Hard was his hap to forrage heere so late,
to misse his loue, and meete so soone with Fate.
Turne to thy loue, see if thy vitall breath,
can call him from the slumber of pale death.
See if thou canst reuiue his gasping soule,
for loe his eies within his head doe rowle.
Embrace his iuory necke with foulded armes,
destill life in him by thy louing charmes.
Buzze in his eares of loue, it will not bee,
his dying sences haue no mind of thee.
Thus round empalld with greefe, was Thysbes mind,
no hope of life in him can Thysbe find,
For he grew stiffe engor'd with bloudy wound,
and by hs bloud fast gled to the ground.
hysbe espied her Tire which hee did hould,
in his hand, and did the same enfould,
As Antidote to cure
his gaping wo make him ere endure:
Vnhappy Tire (quoth she) vnhappy were,
that gaue occasion to my loue of feare.
Thou that hast prest my soule in anguish more,
then all the robes which ere I wore before.
Thou wandring stragler, sliding from mine head,
gaue the first onset to this vgly deede.
For if thou hadst not been, my loue had liu'd,
that now of sence & mouing is depriu'd.
What hap had I at first to put thee on,
when darke Latonas lights were drawing on,
Or what misfortune had I for to leaue thee,
since thy departure doth so greatly grieue mee.
It needes must grieue me: for it cuts my heart,
as if my soule from body should depart.
He was my soule, my body cannot breath,
When as my soule is seised on by death.
Why should I haue such curious regard
to Nightern robes, whē meaner would haue serud?
For well I know it was my loues desire,
to meete my selfe and not my curious tire.
Fie on this nice precisenesse weomen vse
in garish dressings: men should weomen chuse,
Not by their bodies habit, but their minde,
in lists of vertue, and respect confinde.
We that doe loue as we protest we doe,
must not get husbands with a painted show,
Like puppets in a play, addres'd to play
strange acts by night, to purchase loue by day.
Best honour that beseems a countrey maide,
is to be modest, in her actions staid.

21 He might command, and haue what he commanded,
but death, pale death now swaies, & she'l withstand it.
Then honourd hearse, if hearses honour haue,
yeeld to my sute, and perfect what I craue.
Doe not denie me: to deny me this,
were to depriue thee honour me of blisse.
Nay doe not smile, (for I doe see thee smile)
if that our bones thou in thy brest compile,
And recollect them after Thysbes death,
the Nimphes themselues shall set a laurell wreath
Vpon thy back: e'r honourd shalt thou be,
for this good turne thou did my loue and me.
But if thou scorne my vows, and cal them vaine,
yeelding no eare to louers that complaine,
Rest Well assured the Nimphs reueng'd will be.
And for our sakes will quite demolish thee.
When trusty Aiax & Achilles came,
to Patrocles tombe, with teares they bath'd the same
For euery word they spake of Patrocles,
drew teares from them, as streames from Caucasus.
Whose ragged top sends riuers out amaine,
and being sent, renews her springs againe.
So they deplor'd his death, his sacred hearse,
ranck set with embleames and with dolefull verse.
The swanes of Caister and eke of Poe,
came to ensable him in songs of woe
Since which sad time the Poets haue reported,
that each daie twice the swannes haue there resorted.
Passing by flockes along the Greequish plaine,
seeking by songs to make him liue againe.
But when it would not be, the Swans there swore,
that from that time they nere would warble more:
But at their 23 death which they performe: for why
they neuer sing but hower before they die.
Why should a Grecian haue such honour done,
that neuer any Trophies ere had wonne,
But slaine by Hector: for no fame he had
of doing greatly good, or greatly bad.
And yet forsooth he must characters haue
in golden letters ore his worthlesse graue
In polisht marble must his shrine be set
in saphires, 24 tophies and in british ieate.
Thus must he haue respect, when we, god wot,
must lie obscure as if men knew vs not.
And yet our fame deserues more praise then he,
more grace, more glorie, and more memorie:
Time shall race out that marble hearse of his,
time shall amend what time hath done amisse.
For we shall liue in spite of Fates decree,
when lowe interr'd this famous Greeke shall be.
Loue cannot die, we loued and therefore death
shall crowne our hearse with times immortal wreath,
And though we die we loue and liue in dying,
loue to pale death perpetuall life applying.
Why should prince Ilus acts haue such respect
whose toomb with precious emeralds bedeckt?
For well I know such acts did neuer he,
In amorous passions of true loue as we,
25 Yet Batias toomb must haue inscriptions faire,
to shew what man of birth was buried there.

And yet in death we languish not in louing,
though 27 death depriue vs of all vitall
For we conceiue more ioy in toomb'd together,
then if we li'd depriu'd the one of other
More must I say to seale these obsequies;
for death is fearefull and inuents delaies,
And most of all in vs: a weaker brood,
the talke of death yeeldes feare to woman-hood,
And yet, me thinkes I stay from him too long,
and in my stay I doe him double wrong.
First to depriue him life, and then begin
with tardie pe aloofe to follow him.
Well Ile prepare my selfe, the ates decres
two Louers sustaine their crueltie.
And yee not cr, cruelty is showne
when either is of his owne.
But we by 28 Cupid manes, that pur blind boy,
obtaine by could not earst enioy,
Death yeelds , comfort then our life time did,
shewing our which long before was hid
No secret hinks
need we finde , nor fearefull need we shrinke.
For Parents persuite we rest secure,
since hearts, as earth our corp
Wee need not haue our Parents in suspect,
they rest relesse now whe we affect
For well I know we can be hardly seene,
twixt and earth, so great a space between.
Thus enly motion doth ascend,
from earth to heauen to graulate her friend,