Siluanor: Threnodia

If any rurall God, or poore swaine,
consecrate Leucothoes rod, to this plaine:
This herse, deckt with sable verse,
Shall commend
Him as our friend,
Our springs, or groues, our straine.

Let your Temples sweet, mixed be,
With perfumes, let their feete embalmed be,
Then will we, mutually
Still expresse,
And confesse,
You deserue eternitie.

Venus with mirtlewand, Cupid bow,
Pelops with his Iuory hand will bestow;
All in one to this stone
To declare
Loue is rare,
Loue that hath no painted show.

Ioue admires Thysbes face full of fauor,
Mirrha likes the striplings grace and behauiour,
Venus lippe, Ios skippe,
Were both rare,
Yet both are,
In one Thysbe, Ioue would haue her.

From Olympus Ioue espies Thysbes beauty,
Which no sooner he descries, then in duety,
Cupids dart wounds his heart,
He by force,
Sues diuorse,
Iuno cannot please his fancy.

Thus did Thysbe liue and dye, liue by dying
Death confirmes her deity, in applying
To her shrine, power diuine,
Which doth shew,
And renew:
Life anew, renewed by dying.

This ode thus tuned in more dolefull sort,
Then any Mus of mine can make report:
Such errours made resound both farre and neere,
that these sad straines came to their parents eare.
They much prplex'd to heare such wofull newes.
vvhich floods of teares in their moist eies renues;
With speed they could, (which speed but easie was,)
they made recourse vnto that forlorne place.
Teares trickled downe, as drops from Aetas hil.
which with their streams ech hollow 53 caue did fill
For woes exceeded more in that their Tombe,
had bard them hope of future ioys to come,
For they were old, old folkes desire to see,
a good successe vnto their progeny.
But now no hope, mishap had cross'd their hope,
e're to attaine at their desired scope.
Oh what 54 salt seas for seas they seem'd to be,
no drops but floods, vvhich run incessantly
From their dim eies for teares had made them dim,
which, nere the lesse, they took much pleasure in.
Oft would the Mother clip her Thysbe round,
vvhich lay all sencelesse on the bloudy ground.
And vvith a kisse (as old vviues vse to doe,)
her entire loue, her withered lips did show.
Turne to thy Mother (quoth he) or receiue,
thy dolefull Mother in thy haplesse graue;
Acknowledge her that first, aye me too soone,
brought thee to light, vvhich is eclyps'd & done;
I nourished thee, and with a kind embrace,
made me an Idoll of that beauteous face;
For I conceiu'd, deceiu'd I could not be,
No birth more perfect, then the birth of thee.
Thus did the doting 55 trot deplore her fall,
with dropping nose, faint breth, more then them all
That did attend her passion: for the rest
did more represse those passions she exprest,
Nor is it proper, well I know, that man
should shed his teares with ease as women can;
For they more prompt to comfort, yeeld releefe,
to such as are opprest with heapes of greefe,
And can conceale their sorrow, as is fit,
knowing the meanes and way to bridle it.
They thus remaining ore their childrens graue,
the hatefull ground, which did their corps receiue,
They did consult how they might expiate
that wrong of theirs, which they had done so late.
Which whilst they did aduise, they straight did see,
their childrens vowes, grauen in an Oliue tree.
Which were to this effect. " Surcease to mourne,
" and place our seuerall ashes in one Vrne.
For whilst we liu'd, we lou'd, then since we dye,
let one poore vrne preserue our memory.
And let this day recorded bee by you,
and festiue kept: eternise louers true.
Giue vpper hand to him, for he was first:
respect with care, our bones be not disperst
Amongst vnhallowed reliques which will staine
the glorious Trophies which our loue did gaine,
Bee not vnkind vnto your childrens loue,
but what they like, let your consent approue,
For if your minds disposed so had beene,
this glasse of woe you nere had seene.
But we forgiue, forget, so you performe,
what we haue wish'd: we feast, cease you to mourn.
These hestes, these rites thus read; without delay,
they sought their forepast guilt to take awaie,
And rinse their former ill by present good,
yeelding to loue which they before with-stood:
For admiration apt them, and they saw,
no curbe could hold the reins of Venus lawe:
For she enioyn'd them loue, which they obey'd,
which by no Parents wishes could be stai'd.
Each in their order did their obsequies,
with solemne rites as their last exequies,
Making a sire of Iuniper compos'd,
in which their louely corps seem'd well dispos'd,
Which were consum'd to ashes and conseru'd,
in one small 57 pot, as wel their fame deseru'd.
This vrne, poore vrne, which kept their ashes sure,
was made of Brasse, that it might ere endure,
And as a relique, reliques then were vsed,
in 58 Nimrods Temple in a chest enclosed.
There was it put, to which as some report,
all constant louers vs'd to make resort.
No marriage rite was to be consummate,
Before they did this relique inuocate,
That it would be propitious to their loue,
in signe whereof each gaue a Turtle-Doue,
To explicate their truth, their constancie,
which they obseru'd for euer solemnly.
Thus were these two with honour wll rewarded,
their ashes, as times Monuments regarded,
Kept and reseru'd for Fame, Fame grac'd the earth,
in suffering Nature bring so faire a birth
Into the world, which world vnworthy was,
to haue two mirrors and to let them passe.
But time, vnthankfull time, too soone forgot
the Gem she had, as if she had it not.
Soild in the lustre, lustre it had none,
depriu'd of Fame, when her renowne was gone,
For Parents breathlesse were, and with their birth,
by times succession were interr'd in earth.
In selfe-same earth for they desir'd to haue,
their childrens 59 hearse their vrne, their comely graue
Which hauing got, men neuer did adore,
their sacred hearse as they had done before.
For lesse were they esteem'd, so from that time,
nere any louer came vnto their shrine.
Yet to this day, their pictures doe remaine,
in Marble wrought, describing euery vaine.
Ech ruby blush, mix'd with a crimson die,
with Thysbes smile decolour'd wantonly.
With face defac'd by times iniurious frowne,
hath shown more beauty thē my Muse hath shown,