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WILLIAM WARNER (15587-1609)

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BOOK IV, CHAPTER XX The Brutons thus departed hence, seven kingdoms

here begun, Where diversely in divers broils the Saxons lost

and won,

En. My love is fair, my love is gay,

As fresh as bin the flowers in May,
And of my love my roundelay,

My merry, merry roundelay,
Concludes with Cupid's curse, -

“They that do change old love for new,

Pray gods they change for worse!" 15
AMBO SIMUL. They that do change, etc.
Cn. Fair and fair, etc.
PAR. Fair and fair, etc.

Thy love is fair, etc.
En. My love can pipe, my love can sing,

My love can many a pretty thing,
And of his lovely praises ring
My merry, merry roundelays,

Amen to Cupid's curse,
“They that do change,” etc.

25 Par. They that do change, etc. AMBO. Fair and fair, etc.


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King Edel and king Adelbright in Diria jointly

reign; In loyal concord during life these kingly friends

remain. When Adelbright should leave his life, to Edel

thus he says: “By those same bonds of happy love, that held

us friends always, By our bi-parted crown, of which the most is mine, By God, to whom my soul must pass, and so in

time may thine, I pray thee, nay I conjure thee, to nourish as

thine own Thy niece, my daughter Argentile, till she to age

be grown; And then, as thou receivest it, resign to her my

throne.” A promise had for this bequest, the testator he

dies; But all that Edel undertook, he afterward denies. Yet well he fosters for a time the damsel, that was

grown The fairest lady under Heaven; whose beauty

being known, A many princes seek her love, but none might her

obtain: For gripple Edel to himself her kingdom sought

to gain, And for that cause from sight of such he did his

ward restrain. By chance one Curan, son unto a prince in Danske,


did see


His golden locks time hath to silver turned;

O time too swift, O swiftness never ceasing ! His youth 'gainst time and age hath ever spurned, But spurned in vain; youth waneth by in

creasing: Beauty, strength, youth, are flowers but fading seen;

5 Duty, faith, love, are roots, and ever green. His helmet now shall make a hive for bees,

And, lovers' sonnets turned to holy psalms, A man-at-arms must now serve on his knees,

And feed on prayers, which are age his alms: But though from court to cottage he depart, His saint is sure of his unspotted heart. And when he saddest sits in homely cell,

He'll teach his swains this carol for a song, “Blessed be the hearts that wish my sovereign well,

15 Cursed be the souls that think her any wrong.” Goddess, allow this aged man his right, To be your beadsman now that was your knight.

The maid, with whom he fell in love as much as

one might be. Unhappy youth, what should he do? his saint

was kept in mew, Nor he, nor any noble-man admitted to her view. One while in melancholy fits he pines himself

away, Anon he thought by force of arms to win her, if


he may,

And still against the king's restraint did secretly

inveigh At length the high controller Love, whom none

may disobey,

1 avaricious

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Imbased him from lordliness, unto a kitchen

drudge: That so at least of life or death she might become

his judge. Access so had to see, and speak, he did his love

betray, And tells his birth; her answer was she husbandless would stay.

30 Meanwhile the king did beat his brains his booty

to achieve, Nor caring what became of her, so he by her

might thrive. At last his resolution was some peasant should her

wive. And (which was working to his wish) he did ob

serve with joy How Curan, whom he thought a drudge, scaped

many an amorous toy. The king, perceiving such his vein, promotes his

vassal still, Lest that the baseness of the man should let, per

haps, his will. Assured therefore of his love, but not suspecting

who The lover was, the king himself in his behalf did

Sweet growte, or whig, his bottle had as much as

it might hold; A sheave of bread as brown as nut, and cheese as white as snow;

60 And wildings or the season's fruit he did in scrip

bestow. And whilst his pie-bald cur did sleep, and sheep

hook lay him by, On hollow quills of oaten straw he piped melody; But when he spied her, his saint, he wiped his

greasy shoes, And clear'd the drivel from his beard and thus

the shepherd woos: “I have, sweet wench, a piece of cheese, as good as

tooth may chaw, And bread and wildings souling well

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The lady, resolute from love, unkindly takes that he Should bar the noble, and unto so base a match

agree; And therefore shifting out of doors, departed

thence by stealth, Preferring poverty before a dangerous life in

wealth. When Curan heard of her escape, the anguish in

his heart Was more than much, and after her from court he

did depart: Forgetful of himself, his hearth, his country,

friends, and all, And only minding (whom he missed) the foundress

of his thrall. Nor means he after to frequent or court or stately

towns, But solitarily to live amongst the country grounds. A brace of years he lived thus, well pleased so to live,

50 And shepherd-like to feed a flock himself did

wholly give. So wasting, love, by work and want, grew almost

to the wane; But then began a second love, the worser of the

twain. A country wench, a neatherd's maid, where Curan

kept his sheep, Did feed her drove: and now on her was all the

shepherd's keep.

And with the Sun doth fold again; then jogging

home betime, He turns a crab, or tunes a round, or sings some

merry rhyme. Nor lacks he gleeful tales to tell, whilst round

the bowl doth trot; And sitteth singing care away, till he to bed hath got. There sleeps he soundly all the night, forgetting

morrow cares, Nor fears he blasting of his corn nor uttering of

his wares,

Or storms by seas, or stirs on land, or crack of credit lost,

90 Not spending franklier than his flock shall still

defray the cost.


“Well know I, sooth they say that say, 'More Where equal mixture did not want of mild and quiet nights and days

stately grace. The shepherd sleeps and wakes than he whose Her smiles were sober, and her looks were cattle he doth graze.'

cheerful unto all; Believe me, lass, a king is but a man, and so am And such as neither wanton seem, nor wayward, I;

mell, nor gall. Content is worth a monarchy, and mischiefs hit A quiet mind, a patient mood, and not disdainthe high;

ing any; As late it did a king and his, not dwelling far Not gibing, gadding, gaudy, and her faculties were from hence,

many. Who left a daughter, (save thyself) for fair a A nymph, no tongue, no heart, no eye, might matchless wench.”

praise, might wish, might see Here did he pause, as if his tongue had done his For life, for love, for form, more good, more worth, heart offence.

more fair than she. The Neatress, longing for the rest, did egg him Yea such a one, as such was none, save only she on to tell

was such.

130 How fair she was, and who she was. “She Of Argentile to say the most, were to be silent bore," quoth he, “the bell

much.” For beauty. Though I clownish am, I know “I knew the lady very well, but worthless of such what beauty is;

praise,” Or did I not, yet seeing thee, I senseless were to The Neatress said; "and muse I do, a shepherd miss.

thus should blaze Suppose her beauty Helen's-like, or Helen's The coat of beauty. Credit me, thy latter speech somewhat less,

betrays And every star consorting to a pure complexion Thy clownish shape a coined show. But whereguess.

fore dost thou weep?" Her stature comely tall, her gait well graced, and The Shepherd wept, and she was woe, and both her wit

doth silence keep. To marvel at, not meddle with, as matchless I "In truth," quoth he, “I am not such as seeming omit.

I profess: A globe-like head, a gold-like hair, a forehead But then for her, and now for thee, I from myself smooth and high,

digress. An even nose, on either side did shine a greyish Her loved I, — wretch that I am and recreant to eye;

be ! Two rosy cheeks, round ruddy lips, white just- I loved her, that hated love. But now I die for set teeth within;

thee. A mouth in mean, and underneath a round and At Kirkland is my father's court, and Curan is dimpled chin;

my name, Her snowish neck with blueish veins stood bolt In Edel's court sometimes in pomp, till love conupright upon

trolled the same; Her portly shoulders; beating balls, her veined But now – What now? Dear heart, how now? breasts, anon

What ailest thou to weep?" Add more to beauty; wand-like was her middle; The damsel wept, and he was woe, and both did

silence keep.

"I grant," quoth she, “it was too much, that you “And more, her long and limber arms had white

did love so much; and azure wrists;

But whom your former could not move, your And slender fingers answer to her smooth and lily

second love doth touch. fists.

Thy twice beloved Argentile submitteth her to

thee; “With these (O thing divine) with these, her And for thy double love presents herself, a single tongue of speech was spare;

fee; But speaking, Venus seem'd to speak, the ball In passion, not in person chang’d, and I, my lord, from Ide to bear.

am she." With Phæbe, Juno, and with both, herself con- They sweetly surfeiting joy, and silent for a tends in face;










I 20



When as the ecstasy had end did tenderly embrace, All the great city pass'd, and came where, seeing And for their wedding, and their wish got fitting how blood was spilt, time and place.

Andromache might see him come; who made as Not England (for of Hengest then was named so

he would pass this land)

The ports without saluting her, not knowing where Than Curan had an hardier knight, his force could

she was. none withstand;

She, with his sight, made breathless haste, to meet Whose sheep-hook laid apart, he then had higher him; she, whose grace things in hand,

Brought him withal so great a dower; she that of First, making known his lawful claim in Argentile

all the race her right,

Of king Aëtion only lived; Aëtion whose house He warr'd in Diria, and he won Brentia too in stood fight;

Beneath the mountain Placius, environ'd with the And so from treacherous Edel took at once his wood life and crown,

Of Theban Hypoplace, being court to the Cilician And of Northumberland was king, long reigning land. in renown.

She ran to Hector, and with her, tender of heart

and hand, GEORGE CHAPMAN (1559?-1634)

Her son, borne in his nurse's arms; when, like a


Compact of many golden stars, the princely child

did shine, ILIADS

Whom Hector call's Scamandrius; but whom the This said, he went to see

town did name The virtuous princess, his true wife, white-arm'd Astyanax, because his sire did only prop the

Andromache. She, with her infant son and maid, was climb'd Hector, though grief bereft his speech, yet smiled the tower, about

upon his joy. The sight of him that sought for her, weeping and Andromache cried out, mix'd hands, and to the crying out.

strength of Troy Hector, not finding her at home, was going forth; Thus wept forth her affection: “O noblest in retired;

desire, Stood in the gate; her woman call’d, and curiously Thy mind, inflamed with others' good, will set inquired

thyself on fire: Where she was gone; bade tell him true, if she Nor pitiest thou thy son, nor wife, who must thy were gone to see

widow be,

440 His sisters, or his brothers' wives; or whether she If now thou issue; all the field will only run on should be

thee. At temple with the other dames, ť implore Better my shoulders underwent the earth, than thy Minerva's ruth.

decease; Her woman answer'd; since he ask'd, and For then would earth bear joys no more; then urged so much the truth,

comes the black increase The truth was she was neither gone, to see his Of griefs (like Greeks on Ilion). Alas, what one brothers' wives,

survives His sisters, nor t'implore the ruth of Pallas on To be my refuge? one black day bereft seven their lives;

brothers' lives, But she (advertised of the bane Troy suffer'd, and By stern Achilles; by his hand my father breathed how vast

his last, Conquest had made herself for Greece) like one His high-wall'd rich Cilician Thebes sack'd by distraught, made haste

him, and laid waste; To ample Ilion with her son, and nurse, and all The royal body yet he left unspoil'd; Religion

charm'd Mourn'd, and dissolved in tears for him. Then That act of spoil; and all in fire he burn'd him Hector made no stay,

complete arm’d; But trod her path, and through the streets, mag- Built over him a royal tomb; and to the monunificently built,




the way


Was settled in me, and my mind knew what a worthy was,

480 Whose office is to lead in fight, and give no danger

pass Without improvement. In this fire must Hector's

trial shine; Here must his country, father, friends, be, in him,

made divine. And such a stormy day shall come in mind and

soul I know) When sacred Troy shall shed her towers, for tears

of overthrow; When Priam, all his birth and power, shall in those

tears be drown'd. But neither Troy's posterity so much my soul doth

wound, Priam, nor Hecuba herself, nor all my brothers'


He left of him, th' Oreades (that are the high

descent Of Ægis-bearing Jupiter) another of their own Did add to it, and set it round with elms; by

which is shown, In theirs, the barrenness of death; yet might it

serve beside To shelter the sad monument from all the ruffinous

pride Of storms and tempests, used to hurt things of that

noble kind. The short life yet my mother lived he saved, and

served his mind With all the riches of the realm; which not enough

esteem'd, He kept her prisoner; whom small time, but much

more wealth, redeem'd; And she, in sylvan Hypoplace, Cilicia ruled again, But soon was overruled by death; Diana's chaste disdain

461 Gave her a lance, and took her life. Yet, all these

gone from me, Thou amply render'st all; thy life makes still my

father be, My mother, brothers; and besides thou art my

husband too, Most loved, most worthy. Pity then, dear love,

and do not go, For thou gone, all these go again; pity our com

mon joy, Lest, of a father's patronage, the bulwark of all

Troy, Thou leav'st him a poor widow's charge: stay,

stay then, in this tower, And call up to the wild fig-tree all thy retired

power; For there the wall is easiest scal'd, and fittest for surprise,

470 And there, th’Ajaces, Idomen, th’Atrides, Diomed,

thrice Have both survey'd and made attempt; I know

not if induced By some wise augur, or the fact was naturally in

fused Into their wits, or courages.” To this great

Hector said: “Be well assur’d, wife, all these things in my

kind cares are weigh’d, But what a shame and fear it is to think how Troy

would scorn (Both in her husbands, and her wives, whom long

train'd gowns adorn) That I should cowardly fly off! The spirit I

first did breathe Did never teach me that; much less, since the con

tempt of death

(Who, though so many, and so good, must all be

food for foes,) As thy sad state; when some rude Greek shall lead thee weeping hence,

490 These free days clouded, and a night of captive

violence Loading thy temples, out of which thine eyes must

never see, But spin the Greek wives' webs of task, and their

fetch-water be To Argos, from Messeïdes, or clear Hyperia's

spring; Which howsoever thou abhorrist, Fate's such a

shrewish thing She will be mistress; whose cursed hands, when

they shall crush out cries From thy oppressions (being beheld by other

enemies) Thus they will nourish thy extremes: “This

dame was Hector's wife, A man that, at the wars of Troy, did breathe the

worthiest life Of all their army.' This again will rub thy fruitful wounds,

500 To miss the man that to thy bands could give

such narrow bounds. But that day shall not wound mine eyes; the

solid heap of night Shall interpose, and stop mine ears against thy

plaints, and plight.” This said, he reach'd to take his son; who, of

his arms afraid, And then the horse-hair plume, with which he was

so overlaid, Nodded so horribly, he cling'd back to his nurse,

and cried. Laughter affected his great sire, who doff'd, and

laid aside

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