there I lost my head Loe heer the point and sentence of my time My liues full stop my last Catastrophe The stipend of my death-deserued cryme The Scene that ends my wofull tragedy My latest Vale knitting my conclusion Mine vtter ruine and my fames confusion Like as Adonis wounded with the Bore From whose fresh hurt the life-warme blood doth spin Now lyeth wallowing in his purple gore Stayning his faire and Alablaster skin My headles bodie in the blood is left Now lying breathles and of life bereft 〈◊〉 my Muse put on thy Eagles wings 〈◊〉 some comfort to my tired ghost 〈◊〉 with Apollos dolefull-tuned strings 〈◊〉 help at need for now I need thee most Sorrow posses my hart mine eyes myne ears My breath consume to sighs my braine to tears My soule now in the heauens eternall glass Beholds the scarrs and botches of her sin How filthy vglie and deformd shee was The lothsome dunghill that shee wallowed in Her pure Creator sitting in his glory With eyes of iustice to peruse her storie Like as a stagg at bay amongst the hounds The bloodie Mott still sounding in his ears Feeling his breath diminish by his wounds Poures downe his gummy life-preseruing tears Euen thus my soule now bayted by my sin Consuming shewes the sorrow shee is in Thus comfortles forsaken and alone All worldlie things vnstable and vnsure By true contrition flyes to him alone In whose compare the heauens are most impure By whose iust doome to blessed soules reuealed Shee gets her pasport to Elisia sealed And by repentance finds a place of rest Where passing to the faire Elisian plaine Shee is aloud her roome amongst the blest In those Ambrosian shadowes to remaine Till summond thus by Fame shee is procur'd To tell my life that hath been thus obscur'd This monster now this many-headed beast The people more vnconstant then the wind Who in my life my life did so detest Now in my death are of another mind And with the fountains from their teareful eyes Doe honor to my latest obsequies Star-holding heauen hath shut vp all her light Nature become a stepdam to her owne The mantled trouch-man of the Rauen-hued night In mournfull Sables clad the Horizon The sky-borne Planets seeming to conspire Against the ayre the water earth and fire Pearle-paued Auon in her streamfull course With heauy murmure floting on the stones Mou'd with lament to pitty and remorse Attempering sad musick to my moans Tuning her billowes to Zephyrus breath In watry language doth bewaile my death Oke-shadowed Arden fild with bellowing cries Resounding through her holts and hollow grounds To which the Eccho euer-more replies And to the fields sends forth her hideous sounds And in her Siluan rude vntuned songs Makes byrds and beasts for to express my wrongs The heauen-dyed flowers in this happy clyme Mantling the Medowes in their Summers pride As in the wofull frostie winter time Drouping with faintnes hold their heads aside The boystrous storms dispoile the greenest greues Stripping the Trees stark naked of their leaues Death clad in liueries of my louely cheeks Layd in those beds of Lillyes and of Roses Amaz'd with meruaile heere for wonders seeks Where he alone a Paradice supposes Grew malcontent and with himselfe at strife Not knowing now if hee were death or life And shutting vp the casements of those lyghts Which like two sunns so sweetly went to rest In those faire globes he saw those heauenly sights In which alone he thought him onely blest Cursing himselfe who had depriued breath From that which thus could giue a life in death With palenes touching that fayre rubied lip Now waxing purple like Adonis flower Where Iuory walls those rocks of Curral keep From whence did flow that Nectar-streaming shower There earth-pale Death refresht his tired limms Where Cupid bath'd hym in those Christall brimms And entring now into that house of glory That Temple with sweet Odors long perfumed Where nature had ingraued many a story In Letters which by death were not consumed Accursed now his crueltie he curst That Fame should liue when he had done hys worst Now when the King had notice of my death And that hee saw his purpose thus preuented In greeuous sighes hee now consumes his breath And into tears his very eyes relented Cursing that vile and mercy-wanting age And breakes into this passion in his rage O heauens quoth hee lock vp the liuing day Cease sunn to lend the world thy glorious light Starrs flye your course and wander all astray Moone lend no more thy siluer shine by night Heauens starrs Sunn Moone conioyne you all in one Reuenge the death of my sweet Gaueston Earth be thou helples in thy creaturs berth Sea break thou forth from thy immured bound Ayre with thy vapors poyson thou the earth Wind break thy Caue and all the world confound Earth sea ayre wind conioyne you all in one Bewaile the death of my sweet Gaueston You sauage beasts that haunt the way-less woods You Birds delighted in your Siluan sound You scaly Fish that swim in pleasant floods You hartless Wormes that creep vpon the ground Beasts birds fish wormes each in your kind alone Reuenge the death of my sweet Gaueston Faire Medowes be you withered in the prime Sun-burnt and bare be all the goodly Mountains Groues be you leaueless in the Summer time Pitchy and black be all the Christall Fountains All things on earth each in your kind alone Reuenge the death of my sweet Gaueston You damned Furies break your Stigian Cell You wandring spirits in water earth and ayre Lead-boyling ghosts that liue in lowest hell Gods diuels men vnto mine ayde repayre Come all at once conioyne you all in one Reuenge the death of my sweet Gaueston Eyes neuer sleep vntill you see reuenge Head neuer rest vntill thou plot reuenge Hart neuer think but tending to reuenge Hands neuer act but acting deep reuenge Iust-dooming heauens reuenge mee from aboue That men vnborne may wonder at my loue You peerles Poets of ensuing times Chanting Heroique Angel-tuned notes Or humble Pastors Nectar-filled lines Driuing your flocks with musick to their coats Let your hie-flying Muses still bemoane The wofull end of my sweet Gaueston My earth-pale body now enbalmd with tears To famous Oxford solemnly conuaid There buried by the ceremonious Friers Where for my soule was many a Trentall said With all those rites my obsequies behoued Whose blind deuotion time and truth reproued But ere two yeeres were out and fully dated This gracious King who still my fame respected My wasted bones to Langley thence translated And ouer mee a stately Tombe erected Which world-deuouring Time hath now out-worne As but for Letters were my name forlorne My ghost now hence to Ankor shall repayre Where once the same appeared vnto thee And vnto chaste Idea tell my care A sacrifice both for thy selfe and mee In whose sweet bosome all the Muses rest In whose aspect our Clyme is onely blest Thus hauing told my drery dolefull tale My time expir'd I now returne againe Where Carons Barge hoyst with a merrie gale Shall land mee on the faire Elisian plaine Where on the Trees of neuer dying fame There will I carue Ideas sacred name And thou sweet Dorus whose sole Phoenix Muse With Pegase wings doth mount vnto the sky Whose lines the gods are fittest to peruse My louelie Dorus lend thine humble eye To my harsh stile deer friend at my request In whose conceit my verse is onely blest My deer Maecenas lend thine eyes awhile From Meredian's sun-bred stately straine And from thy rare and lofty flying stile Looke downe into my low and humble vaine On this same babe my Muse hath now brought forth Till shee present thee with some lines of worth FINIS DIuers haue been the opinions of the byrth and first rysing of Gaueston amongst the VVriters of these latter times some omitting things worthy of memory some inferring things without probabilitie disagreeing in many particulars and cauelling in the circumstances of his sundry banishments which hath bred some doubt amongst those who haue but slightly run ouer the History of his fortune seeing euery man roue by his owne ayme in this confusion of opinions Although most of thē concluding in generall of his exceeding credite with the King of the maner of his death and of the pompe wherin he lyued Except some of those VVriters who lyued in the tyme of Edward the second wherin he onely florisht or immediatly after in the golden raigne of Edward the third when as yet his memory was fresh in euery mans mouth whose authorities in myne opinion can hardlie be reproued of any the same beeing within the compasse of possibility and the Authors names extant auouching what they haue written On whom I onely relyed in the plot of my History hauing recourse to some especiall collections gathered by the industrious labours of Iohn Stow a diligent Chronigrapher of our time A man very honest exceeding painfull and ritch in the antiquities of this Ile yet omitting some small things of no moment feating to make his Tragedy more troublesome amongst so many currants as haue fallen out in the same framing my selfe to fashion a body of a hystorie without maime or deformitie VVhich if the same be accepted thankfully as I offer it willingly in contenting you I onely satisfie my selfe M. D.
I fell From Angels state from heauen cast downe to hell Loe here the verie Image of perfection With the blacke pensill of defame is blotted And with the vlcers of my youths infection My innocencie is besmer'd and spotted Now comes my night ô now my day is done These sable cloudes eclipse my rising sunne Our innocence our child-bred puritie Is now defilde and as our dreames forgot Drawne in the coach of our securitie What act so vile that we attempted not Our sun-bright vertues fountaine-cleer beginning Is now polluted by the filth of sinning O wit too wilfull first by heauen ordayn'd An Antidote by vertue made to cherish By filthy vice as with a mole art stayn'd A poyson now by which the sences perish That made of force all vices to controule Defames the life and doth confound the soule The Heauens to see my fall doth knit her browes The vaulty ground vnder my burthen groneth Vnto mine eyes the ayre my light allowes The very winde my wickednesse bemoneth The barren earth repineth at my foode And Nature seemes to cursse her beastly broode And thus like slaues we sell our soules to sinne Vertue forgot by worldes deceitfull trust Alone by pleasure are we entred in Now wandring in the labyrinth of lust For when the soule is drowned once in vice The sweete of sinne makes hell a paradice O Pleasure thou the very lure of sinne The roote of woe our youthes deceitfull guide A shop where all confected poysons been The bayte of lust the instrument of pride Inchanting Circes smoothing couer-guile A luring Siren flattering Crockodile Our Ioue which sawe his Phoebus youth betrayde And Phaeton guide the sunne-carre in the skies Knewe well the course with danger hardly staide For what is not perceu'd by wise-mens eyes He knew these pleasures posts of our desire Might by misguiding set his throne on fier This was a corsiue to King Edwards dayes These iarring discords quite vntund his mirth This was the paine that neuer gaue him ease If euer hell this was his hell on earth This was the burthen which he groned vnder This pincht his soule and rent his heart in sunder This venom suckt the marrowe from his bones This was the canker which consum'd his yeares This fearfull vision fild his sleepe with grones This winter snowd downe frost vpou his hayres This was the moth this was the fretting rust Which so consum'd his glorie vnto dust The humor found which fed this foule disease Must needes be stay'd ere help could be deuis'd The vaine must breath the burning to appease Hardly a cure the wound not cauteris'd That member now wherein the botch was risen Infecteth all not cured by incision The cause coniectur'd by this prodigie From whence this foule contagious sicknes grue Wisdome alone must giue a remedie For to preuent the danger to insue The cause must end ere the effect could cease Else might the danger dayly more increase Now those whose eyes to death enuide my glorie Whose saftie still vpon my down-fall stood These these could comment on my youthfull storie These were the wolues which thirsted for my blood These all vnlade their mischiefes at this baye And make the breach to enter my decaye These curres that liu'd by carrion of the court These wide-mouth'd hel-hounds long time kept at bay Finding the King to credit their reporte Like greedie rauens follow for their pray Dispightfull Langton fauorit to the King Was he which first me in disgrace could bring Such as beheld this lightning from aboue My Princely Ioue from out the ayre to thunder This earth-quake which did my foundation moue This boystrous storme this vnexspected wounder They thought my sunne had bin eclipsed quite And all my day now turn'd to winters night My youth embowel'd by their curious eyes Whose true reportes my life anatomis'd Who still pursu'd me like deceitfull spyes To crosse that which I wantonly deuis'd Perceaue the traine me to the trap had led And downe they come like haylestones on my head My Sonne eclips'd ech Starre becomes a Sunne When Phoebus fayles then Cynthia shineth bright These furnish vp the Stage my act is done Which were but Gloe-wormes to my glorious light Those erst condemn'd by my perfections doome In Phoebus chariot now possesse my roome The Commons swore I led the Prince to vice The Nobles said that I abus'd the King Graue Matrons such as lust could not intice Like women whispred of another thing Such as could not aspire vnto my place These were suborn'd to offer me disgrace The staffe thus broke whereon my youth did stay And with the shaddowe all my pleasures gone Now with the windes my ioyes fleete hence away The silent night makes musik to my moane The tatling ecchoes whispering with the ayre Vnto my wordes sound nothing but despayre The frowning Heauens are all in sables clad The Planet of my liues misfortune raineth No musick serues a dying soule to glad My wrong to Tirants for redresse complaineth To ease my paine there is no remedie So farre despayre exceeds extremitie Why doe I quake my down-fall to reporte Tell on my ghost the storie of my woe The King commaunds I must depart the court I aske no question he will haue it so The Lyons roring lesser beastes doe feare The greatest flye when he approcheth neare My Prince is now appointed to his guarde As srom a traytor he is kept from me My banishment already is preparde Away I must there is no remedie On paine of death I may no longer stay Such is reuenge which brooketh no delaye The skies with cloudes are all inuelloped The pitchie fogs eclipse my cheerfull Sunne The geatie night hath all her curtaines spred And all the ayre with vapours ouerrun Wanting those rayes whose cleernes lent me light My sun-shine day is turn'd to black-fac'd night Like to the birde of Ledaes lemmans die Beating his breast against the siluer streame The fatall prophet of his destinie With mourning chants his death approching theame So now I sing the dirges of my fall The Anthemes of my fatall funerall Or as the faithfull Turtle for her make Whose youth enioyd her deere virginitie Sits shrouded in some melancholie brake Chirping forth accents of her miserie Thus halfe distracted sitting all alone With speaking sighs to vtter forth my mone My bewtie s'dayning to behold the light Now weather-beaten with a thousaud stormes My daintie lims must trauaile day and night Which oft were lulde in princely Edwards armes Those eyes where bewtie sate in all her pride With fearefull obiects fild on euery side The Prince so much astonisht with the blowe So that it seem'd as yet he felt no paine Vntill at length awakned by his woe He sawe the wound by which his ioyes were slaine His cares fresh bleeding fainting more and more No Cataplasma now to cure the sore Now weepe mine eyes and lend me teares at will You sad-musde sisters help me to indite And in your faire Castalia bathe my quill
In bloodie lines whilst I his woes recite Inspire my muse O Heauens now from aboue To painte the passions of a princely loue His eyes about their rouling Globes doe cast To finde that Sunne from whom they had their light His thoughtes doe labor for that sweete repast Which past the daye and pleasd him all the night He countes the howers so sloly how they runne Reproues the daye and blames the loytring sunne As gorgious Phoebus in his first vprise Discouering now his Scarlet-coloured head By troublous motions of the lowring Skies His glorious beames with fogges are ouerspred So are his cheereful browes eclips'd with sorrowe Which cloud the shine of his youths-smiling morrow Now showring downe a flud of brackish teares The Epithemaes to his hart-swolne griefe Then sighing out a vollue of dispayres Which onely is th'afflicted mans reliefe Now wanting sighes and all his teares were spent His tongue brake out into this sad lament O breake my hart quoth he O breake and dye Whose infant thoughts were nurst with sweete delight But now the Inne of care and miserie Whose pleasing hope is murthered with despight O end my dayes for now my ioyes are done Wanting my Peirs my sweetest Gaueston Farewell my Loue companion of my youth My soules delight the subiect of my mirth My second selfe if I reporte the truth The rare and onely Phenix of the earth Farewell sweete friend with thee my ioyes are gone Farewell my Peirs my louely Gaueston What are the rest but painted Imagrie Dombe Idols made to fill vp idle roomes But gaudie anticks sportes of foolerie But fleshly coffins goodly gilded tombes But puppets which with others words replie Like pratling ecchoes soothing euery lie O damned world I scorne thee and thy worth The very source of all iniquitie An ougly damme that brings such monsters forth The maze of death nurse of impietie A filthie sinke where lothsomnes doth dwell A labyrinth a iayle a very hell Deceitfull Siren traytor to my youth Bane to my blisse false theefe that stealst my ioyes Mother of lyes sworne enemie to truth The ship of fooles fraught all with gaudes and toyes A vessell stuft with foule hypocrisie The very temple of Idolatrie O earth-pale Saturne most maleuolent Combustious Planet tyrant in thy raigne The sworde of wrath the roote of discontent In whose ascendant all my ioyes are slaine Thou executioner of foule bloodie rage To act the will of lame decrepit age My life is but a very mappe of woes My ioyes the fruite of an vntimely birth My youth in labour with vnkindly throwes My pleasures are like plagues that raigne on earth All my delights like streames that swiftly run Or like the dewe exhaled by the Sun O Heauens why are you deafe vnto my mone S'dayne you my prayers or scorne to heare my misse Cease you to moue or is your pittie gone Or is it you that rob me of my blisse What are you blinde or winke and will not see Or doe you sporte at my calamitie O happie climat whatso ere thou be Cheerd with those sunnes the fayr'st that euer shone Which hast those Stars which guide my destinie The brightest lamps in all the Horizon O happie eyes that see which most I lacke The pride and bewtie of the Zodiacke O blessed fountaine source of all delight O sacred sparke that kindlest Virtues fier The perfect obiect of the purest sight The superficies of true loues desire The very touchstone of all sweete conceite On whom all graces euermore awaite Thus whilst his youth in all these stormes was tost And whilst his ioyes lay speechles in a traunce His sweete content with such vnkindnes crost And lowring Fortune seem'd to looke askance Too weake to swim against the streamfull time Fore-told their fall which now sought most to clime Camelion-like the world thus turns her hue And like Proteus puts on sundry shapes One hastes to clime another doth ensue One fals another for promotion gapes Flockmell they swarme like flies about the brim Some drowne whilst others with great danger swim And some on whome the Sunne shon passing fayre Yet of their summer nothing seeme to vaunte They sawe their fall presaged by the ayre If once this planet were predominant Thus in their gate they flew with wings of feare And still with care doe purchase honor deere Thus restles Time that neuer turnes againe Whose winged feete are sliding with the Sunne Brings Fortune in to act another scene By whome the plot alreadie is begunne The argument of this same tragedie Is Virtues fall to raise vp infamie The brute is blowne the King doth now pretend A long-look'd voyage to the Holy-land For which his subiects mightie sums doe lend And whilst the thing is hotly thus in hand Blinde Fortune turnes about her fickle wheele And breaks the prop which makes the building reele I feare to speake yet speake I must perforce My wordes be turn'd to teares euen as I write Mine eyes doe yet behold his dying corse And on his hearse me thinkes I still indyte My paper is hard sable Ebon wood My pen of Iron and my inke is blood Loe here the time drue on of Edwards death Loe here the dolefull period of his yeares O now he yeeldeth vp that sacred breath For whom the Heauens do shower down fluds of teares For whom the Sunne euen mourning hides his face For whom the earth was all to vile and base May I reporte his dolefull obsequie When as my Ghost doth tremble at his name Faine would I write but as I write I die My ioyntes apald with feare my hand is lame I leaue it to some sacred muse to tell Vpon whose life a Poets pen might dwell No sooner was his body wrapt in lead And that his mournfull funerals were done But that the Crowne was set on Edwards head Sing I-o now my ghost the storme is gone The winde blowes right loe yonder breakes my day Caroll my muse and now sing care away Carnaruan now cals home within a while Whom worthie Long-shankes hated to the death Whom Edward swore should dye in his exile He was as deere to Edward as his breath This Edward lou'd that Edward loued not Kings wils performd and dead mens words forgot Now waft me winde vnto the blessed Ile Rock me my ioyes loue sing me with delight Now sleepe my thoughts cease sorrowe for a while Now end my care come day farwell my night Sweet sences now act euery one his part Loe here the balme that hath recur'd my hart Loe now my Ioue in his ascendant is In the aestiuall solstice of his glorie Now all the Stars prognosticate my blis And in the Heauen all eyes may reade my storie My comet now worlds wonder thus appeers Foretelling troubles of insuing yeeres Now am I mounted with fames golden wings And in the Tropick of my fortunes height My flood maintayned with a thousand springs Now on my back supporting Atlas weight All tongues and pens attending on my
Peirs Gaueston EARLE OF CORNWALL His life death and fortune Effugiunt auidos carmina sola rogos AT LONDON Printed by I. R. for N. L. and Iohn Busby and are to be sold at the West doore of Paules To the vvorthy and honorable Gentleman Maister Henry Caundish Esquire TIme-enobled Gentleman and euer-honoured Ma. Caundish highly esteeming you in mine owne opinion amongst the number of those who for theyr rare deserts and excellencie of their minds in this world-declining age haue their names registred in the Catilogue of the most worthiest of this time as a kinde Maecenas to Schollers a fauourer of learning and Arts which shall engraue your name with the Diamond of Fame in the Christall mirror of Heauen I present to your iudiciall view the tragicall discourse of the life death and fortune of PEIRS GAVESTON whose name hath been obscured so many yeeres and ouer-past by the Tragaedians of these latter times assuring my selfe your honourable patronage shall protect him against the Art-hating humorists of this malicious time whose enuious thoughts like Quailes feed only on poyson snarling like doggs at euery thing which neuer so little disagreeeth from their owne Stoicall dispositions Thus confirming my selfe in your fauourable and gracious acceptance of my Muse which in my loue I euer consecrate to your honorable House I wish you that happines which is due to your own worth and good desart Your euer affectionate Michaell Drayton Peirs Gaueston FRom gloomy shaddowe of eternall night Where cole-black darknes keeps his lothsome cel And from those Ghostes whose eyes abhorre the light From thence I come a wofull tale to tell Prepare the Stage I meane to acte my parte Sighing the scenes from my tormented hart From Stygian lake to gracelesse soules assign'd And from the floud of burning Acheron Where sinfull spirites are by the fier refinde The fearefull Ghost of wofull Gaueston With black-fac'd furies from the graues attended Vntill the tenor of my tale be ended Wing-footed Fame now sommons me from death In Fortunes triumph to aduance my glorie The blessed Heauens againe doe lend me breath Whilst I reporte this dolefull Tragick storie That soule and bodie which death once did sunder Now meete together to reporte a wonder O purple-buskind Pallas most diuine Let thy bright fauchion lend me Cypresse bowes Be thou assistinge to this Poet of mine And with thy tragicke garland girte his browes Pitying my case when none would heare me weepe To tell my cares hath layde his owne to sleepe You mournfull maydens of the sacred nine You destinies which haunt the shades beneath To you fayre muses I my playnts resigne To you black spirits I my woes bequeath With sable pens of direfull ebonie To pen the processe of my tragedie Drawe on the lines which shall report my life With weeping words distilling from thy pen Where woes abound and ioyes are passing rife A verie meteor in the eies of men Wherein the world a wonder-world may see Of heauen-bred ioye and hell-nurst miserie Declare my ebs my often swelling tide Now tell my calmes and then report my showres My winters stormes and then my summers pride False fortunes smiles then her dissembling lowres The height wherto my glorie did ascend Then poynt the period where my ioyes did end When famous Edward wore the english crowne Victorious Long shankes flower of chiualrie First of his name that raignd in Albion Through worlds renownd to all posteritie My youth began and then began my blis Euen in his daies those blessed daies of his O daies no daies but little worlds of mirth O yeares no yeares time sliding with a trice O world no world a verie heauen on earth O earth no earth a verie paradice A King a man nay more then this was hee If earthly man more then a man might bee Such a one he was as Englands Beta is Such as she is euen such a one was he Betwixt her rarest excellence and his Was neuer yet so neare a Sympathy To tell your worth and to giue him his due I say my soueraigne he was like to you His court a schoole where artes were daily red And yet a campe where armes were exercised Vertue and learning here were nourished And stratagems by souldiers still deuised Heere skilfull schoolmen were his counsaylors Schollers his captaines captaines Senators Here sprang the roote of true gentilitie Vertue was clad in gold and crownd with honor Honor intitled to Nobilitie Admired so of all that looked on her Wisedome not wealth possessed wisemens roomes Vnfitting base insinuating groomes Then Machiuels were loth'd as filthie toades And good men as rare pearles were richly prized The learned were accounted little Gods The vilest Atheist as the plague despised Desert then gaynd that vertues merit craues And artles Pesants scorn'd as basest slaues Pride was not then which all things ouerwhelms Promotion was not purchased with gold Men hew'd their honor out of steeled helms In those dayes fame with bloud was bought and sold No petri-fogger pol'd the poore for pence These dolts these dogs as traytors banisht hence Then was the Souldier prodigall of bloud His deedes eternizd by the Poets pen Who would not dye to doe his countrey good When after death his fame yet liu'd to men Then learning liu'd with liberalitie And men were crownd with immortalitie Graunt pardon then vnto my wandring ghost Although I seeme lasciuious in my prayse And of perfection though I seeme to boast Whilst here on earth I troad this weary maze Whilst yet my soule in bodie did abide And whilst my flesh was pampred here in pride My valiant father was in Gascoygne borne A man at armes and matchles with his launce A Souldier vow'd and to King Edward sworne With whom he seru'd in all his wars in Fraunce His goods and lands he pawnd and layd to gage To follow him the wonder of that age And thus himselfe he from his home exil'd Who with his sword sought to aduance his fame With me his ioy but then a little child Vnto the Court of famous England came Whereas the King for seruice he had done Made me a page vnto the Prince his sonne My tender youth yet scarce crept from the shell Vnto the world brought such a wonderment That all perfection seem'd in me to dwell And that the heauens me all their graces lent Some sware I was the quintessence of nature And some an Angell and no earthly creature The heauens had lim'd my face with such a die As made the curiost eie on earth amazed Tempring my lookes with loue and maiestie A miracle to all that euer gazed So that it seem'd some power had in my birth Ordained me his Image here on earth O bewtious vernish of the heauens aboue Pure grain-dy'd colour of a perfect birth O fairest tincture adamant of loue Angell-hewd blush the prospectiue of mirth O sparkling luster ioying humaine sight Liues ioy hearts fire Loues nurse the soules delight As purple-tressed Titan with his
beames The sable cloudes of night in sunder cleaueth Enameling the earth with golden streames When he his crimson Canopie vpheaueth Such was my beauties pure translucent rayes Which cheerd the Sun cleerd the drouping dayes My lookes perswading orators of Loue My speech diuine infusing harmonie And euery worde so well could passion moue So were my gestures grac'd with modestie As where my thoughts intended to surprize I easly made a conquest with mine eyes A gracious minde a passing louely eye A hand that gaue a mouth that neuer vaunted A chaste desire a tongue that would not lye A lyons heart a courage neuer daunted A sweet conceit in such a cariage placed As with my gesture all my words were graced Such was the worke which nature had begonne As promised a gem of wondrous price This little star foretold a glorious sunne This curious plot an earthly paradice This globe of bewtie wherin all might see An after world of wonders here in mee As in the Autumnall season of the yeare Some death-presaging comet doth arise Or some prodigious mete or doth appeare Or fearfull Chasma vnto humaine eyes Euen such a wonder was I to behold Where heauen seem'd all her secrets to vnfold If cunning'st pensill-man that euer wrought By skilfull arte of secret sumetry Or the diuine Idea of the thought With rare descriptions of high poesy Should all compose a body and a mind Such a one seem'd I the wonder of my kind With this fayre bayte I fisht for Edwards loue My daintie youth so pleasd his princely eye Here sprang the league which time could not remoue So deeply grafted in our Infancie That frend nor foe nor life nor death could sunder So seldome seene and to the world a wonder O heauenly concord musicke of the minde Touching the heart-strings with such harmonie The ground of nature and the law of kinde Which in coniunction doe so well agree Whose reuolution by effect doth proue That mortall men are made diuine by loue O strong combining chaine of secrecie Sweet ioy of heauen the Angels oratorie The bond of faith the seale of sanctitie The soules true blisse youths solace ages glorie An endles league a bond thats neuer broken A thing diuine a word with wonder spoken With this fayre Bud of that same blessed Rose Edward surnam'd Carnaruan by his birth Who in his youth it seem'd that Nature chose To make the like whose like was not on earth Had not his lust and my lasciuious will Made him and me the instruments of ill With this sweete Prince the mirror of my blisse My souls delight my ioy my fortunes pride My youth enioyd such perfect happines Whil'st tutors care his wandring yeares did guide As his affections on my thoughts attended And with my life his ioyes began and ended Whether it were my beauties excellence Or rare perfections that so pleasd his eye Or some diuine and heauenly influence Or naturall attracting Sympathie My pleasing youth became his senses obiect Where all his passions wrought vpon this subiect Thou Arke of Heauen where wonders are inroled O depth of nature who can looke vnto thee O who is he that hath thy doome controuled Or hath the key of reason to vndoe thee Thy workes diuine which powers alone doe knowe Our shallow wittes too short for things belowe The soule diuine by her integritye And by the functious agents of the minde Cleer-sighted so perceiueth through the eye That which is pure and pleasing to her kinde And by hir powrfull motions apprehendeth That which beyond our humaine sence extendeth This Edward in the Aprill of his age Whil'st yet the Crowne sate on his fathers head My Ioue with me his Ganimed his page Frolick as May a lustie life we led He might commaund he was my Soueraigns sonne And what I saide by him was euer done My words as lawes Autentique he alloude Mine yea by him was neuer crost with no All my conceite as currant he auowde And as my shadowe still he serued so My hand the racket he the tennis ball My voyces echo answering euery call My youth the glasse where he his youth beheld Roses his lipps my breath sweete Nectar showers For sn my face was natures fayrest field Richly adornd with Beauties rarest flowers My breast his pillow where he laide his hed Mine eyes his booke my bosome was his bed My smiles were life and Heauen vnto his sight All his delight concluding my desier From my sweete sunne he borrowed all his light And as a flie play'd with my beauties fier His loue-sick lippes at euery kifsing qualme Cling to my lippes to cure their griefe with balme Like as the wanton Yuie with his twyne Whenas the Oake his rootlesse bodie warmes The straightest saplings strictly doth combyne Clipping the woodes with his laciuious armes Such our imbraces when our sporte begins Lapt in our armes like Ledas louely Twins Or as Loue-nursing Venus when she sportes With cherry-lipt Adonis in the shade Figuring her passions in a thousand sortes With sighes and teares or what else might perswade Her deere her sweete her ioy her life her loue Kissing his browe his cheeke his hand his gloue My bewtie was the Load-starre of his thought My lookes the Pilot to his wandring eye By me his sences all a sleepe were brought When with sweete loue I sang his lullaby Nature had taught my tongue her perfect time Which in his eare stroake duely as a chyme With sweetest speech thus could I syranize Which as strong Philters youthes desire could moue And with such method could I rhetorize My musick plaied the measures to his loue In his faire brest such was my soules impression As to his eyes my thoughts made intercession Thus like an Eagle seated in the sunne But yet a Phenix in my soueraigns eye We act with shame our reuels are begunne The wise could iudge of our Catastrophe But we proceede to play our wanton prize Our mournfull Chorus was a world of eyes The table now of all delight is layd Seru'd with what banquets bewtie could deuise The Strens singe and false Calypso playd Our feast is grac'd with youthes sweete comoedies Our looks with smiles are sooth'd of euery eye Carrousing loue in boules of Iuorie Fraught with delight and safely vnder sayle Like flight-wing'd Faucons now we take our scope Our youth and fortune blowe a mery gale We loose the anchor of our vertues hope Blinded with pleasure in this lustfull game By ouersight discard our King with shame My youthfull pranks are spurs to his desire I held the raynes that rul'd the golden sunne My blandishments were fewell to his fyer I had the garland whosoeuer wonne I waxt his winges and taught him art to flye Who on his back might beare me through the skye Here first that sun-bright temple was defild Which to faire vertue first was consecrated This was the fruite wherewith I was beguild Heere first the deede of all my fame was dated O me euen heere from paradice