She snatched her termers from the sweet embrace,And golden fetters of death's elder brother,Bidding them hence those deading slumbers chaseT' implore the favour of the Virgin-mother.They starting up with more than common speed,Each shelled her body in her modest weed.So called to chapel those whose pregnant wombsThe angel's pills had heaved above their waists,2550Like to a surfeit ta'en of Hybla's combs,When we are too indulgent to our tastes.But left Felice out to cut or sew,Or to embroider with the lanky crew.Which made a sudden faintness loose each part,And every joint was like an aspen leaf;Her rosy twins retired to her heart,Her looks were coloured like a sunburnt sheaf,As the stiff bristles of an aged boarWere her smooth locks, which o'er her cheeks she wore2560And juster cause had none than she to fear,For as from quiet slumber she awokeShe heard the ptisick pick Pazzella's earThat she had knowledge of what Floris spoke.And now she doubted all would come to th' scanningTheir longing, swelling and their sudden wanning.The virgins wondered at Felice's change,To see her eyes fix'd in a white-limed wall;Each feared herself, and each conceived 'twas strangeLest the disease was epidemical:—2570That Merlin's uncle changed Felice's hue,And streaked their temples with a purple blue.But leave her sighing with these sterile dames,We'll crowd into the house of sacred vowsWhere consciousness, begetting female shames,Spread scarlet carpets on their cheeks and brows.They looked, and blushed, and glanced on one another:Each cursed the minute which did dub her mother.The holy brethren, through the mouldy pipe,At that same time did unexpected come,2580To know if th' goddy issue yet was ripeTo give adieu unto their skin-sealed home.But viewing still their wombs, with zealous hands,They prayed Lucina to untie their bands.Their chantings dead, the abbotess began;'Brethren, you see what sad misfortune hapsUnto my virgins by the oil of man,Witness the heaving of their spongy paps.We of an angel dreamed, but if he wasHe shall hereafter for an evil pass.2590'I made their slumbers vocal, so they told'Twas Folco's duke's supposèd daughter's work.Larved with that name, it seems some roister boldThem to unvirgin cunningly did lurk.But since 'tis so, the proverb shall stand good,Tart sauces must be mixed with luscious food.I knew him to be wanton, and to chillThe raging heat of his unbridled lust,I doomed him three days' penance, judged an illWould make him sapless as the summer's dust.2600But since that failed, days shall be chang'd to years,Minutes to months, till paid his tribute tears.I'll try if grief will drain his melting reins,And hang a crutch upon his able back;If sorrow will unblood his swelling veinsAnd make his sinews, shrunk with famine, crack.I'll make a purgatory, where with hunger,Frost, flame, and snow, I'll tame my virgin-monger.I'll give command a dungeon shall be made,To whose close womb the sun shall never pry,2610Nor Cynthia dare to peep: for gloomy shadeLike cloudy night shall purblind every eye:Bare measure four-foot broad; and for that height'T shall make him by constraint, not court, lie slight.A bedstead hewn out of the craggy rock,Not arched with cedar wainscot, knobbed with gold;His bed no shrinker, but a sturdy flock,Swans shall not be deplumed his limbs t'infold.Nor curtained with the travails of the loomOf poor Arachne, ere she had her doom.2620I will not spend the ransom of a crownFor curious dainties to delight his taste.I'll fetch no fowls from off the Parthian down,Or Phaenicopter for luxurious waste.I will no mullet from Corsica take,Oysters from Circe's or the Lucrine lake.I will allow him pottage, thicked with bran,Of barley-meal a choenix every day,A sovereign diet for a frolic manThat is affected with the Paphian play.2630And lest his stomach should too chol'ric grow,I will afford him some congealed snow.'The bald-pate crew this penance well approved,And, in a trice, all things she ready got.So well she stirred her stumps (as it behoved)She being hatcher of this starving plot.This done, with friendly words and courteous air,She called Felice to her house of prayer.'It suits not with your greatness, madam fair,Being sole daughter to so great a man,2640To lodge with those which your inferiors are,As much as is an inch unto a span,And I'm afraid the Duke will fume and swear,Should but your lodging step into his ear.''Madam,' quoth she, 'you harbour needless fears.Goodness, not greatness, differenceth maids.My father's no tobacconist; and swearsIn point of honour like our scarlet blades.And, by my faith, it more contenteth meTo sheet with maidens though of mean degree.2650I am surchargèd with the black-hued choler,Which strikes my fancy with most ugly shapes.I durst not rest a-darkness for a dolour,Without a pillow-friend to scare those apes:Let Cloe with conceits my spirits wing,Or melancholy will my requiem sing.''You shall,' says she, 'have Sesamoidesse.For all entreats are of too dull a print.We must respect your father's worthiness,His honour must your love and passions stint,2660And your own worth must highly be regarded,How shall I else expect to be rewarded?'Then did she take her by the tender hand,And led her to her grot in princely state.She feared not much, nor did her will withstand,Judging divorcement was her harshest fate;But when she saw the entrance was so narrowA sudden fear did eat up all her marrow.Pazzella, viewing her supposèd lass,Repented her of her intended ills;2670But injuries engraven are on brass,And women's jointures are to have their wills.And lest remorse should chill her angry mood,Fuel was added by the brotherhood.'Then,' says she, 'madam, you behold the cageWhich I preparèd for your honour's good,Where you may spend the autumn of your age.Till age and winter have congealed your blood.You may retire to ease: for envy canNor dares to say you're not an able man.2680When twice ten circled snakes are crawled away,You shall enjoy companions masculine,To give instructions in that youthful playIs fed with Ceres and the god of wine.And, if my virgins shall hereafter beLascivious given, I will send for thee.'Into this coven was Felice thrust,With bars and locks the entrance sealèd fast,Now must he pay a dear rate for his lust,His curtain-vezzo, and the coral taste.2690Sure his repentance will be full as dearAs the philosopher'snon tantiwere.Ah, foppish monk! did not Bellama's 'no'Give thee a warning-piece presaging danger,But thou must headlong rush upon thy woe?Happy's that man which is to lust a stranger!If this of dalliance is the constant fee,Let them d——dally that do list, for me.Here, when the barking star his sceptre waved,When in our clime we feel an Ethiope's heat,2700An undervault the subtil matron paved,With fire and flame to force a constant sweat,That, as from flowers hot limbecks water 'still,So by this stove from him sweat-currents drill.Then, for the winter season she providedA melting cloud full fraught with feath'red rain(Whose curious art the air-borne clouds derided),Which through some oillet holes might passage gain.His cabin should have been, like Alps' cold height,Mantled and strewèd o'er with winter's white.2710And 'twas so dark, I cannot see to write.Nay, at a nonplus it all pencils sets.'Twas hell's epitome, the cage of night,Walled in with pitch and roofed o'er with jets.The lynx at midday here would wish for day,And cats without a torch must grope their way.But leave him labyrinthed and thus distressed,And see Bellama, and examine howShe brooks the absence of her bosom-guest,If discontent does revel on her brow.2720It does: for why, she dreams and never sleeps,She feeds and fats not, laughs, but ever weeps.'Disaster hangs upon Albino gyves,'Says she, 'else Envy keeps him prisoner,Or a new bull does interdict them wives,So seals the lips of my petitioner.Else the smirk knave is so devout in pray'r,He has no time to kiss the common air.But does he love? or is 't a fit of mirth,Which, like to children's fancies, soon expire2730Ere language or employment give them birth,Flashing affections, aged like thunder-fire?His eyes shot Cupids at my yielding heart,But his firm breast repelled my feeble dart.Perchance he judged my forwardness to love,By too much court'sy, and my frequent glances.So thought in jest my willingness to prove,Not with that sober passion which entrances;But with lip-love, which to the heart ne'er sinks,And paper-vows which take their birth from inks.2740But stay: does greatness use to be denied?Beauty and bravery command a grant.Yet might my looks and carriage plumed with prideHis humble and untow'ring spirit daunt.Daunt? no: his soul's a temper most divine,Dares soar aloft to kiss the sun's near shine.Then love he does: but must this action, woo,Be tied by patent only unto men?Some unfrequented paths of love I'll go,And in some riddles court him by my pen.2750Yet first to th' abbey I'll dispatch a post,To make inquiry where my monk doth host.'The merchant is not with desires so big,When as he ploughs the sea for Indian mines;With slower steps the sons of Bacchus trigTo sack-shops for the French and Spanish wines;Than she to Tagus bids her servant goTo Croftfull Abbey where her wishes grow.Gone is the messenger: but small successWaits on his travels, for he back returns2760With, 'Madam, where Albino's none can guess.They think his ashes are enclosed in urns.For time, say they, has counted fortnights many,Since his choice feature object was to any.'This answer shot an hailstorm at her heart,Whose sudden chillness jellied all her blood,Sh' applièd Holco to unscrew the dart,But her assayments brought her little good.For, but Albino, none can cure her ill,Not physic potions, or the druggard's skill.2770'Ah me! has Fate my dear Albino ta'en?Then farewell music, and you sprucing trade;Either my tears shall body him again,Or send my ghost to wait upon his shade.For she is judged a light unconstant lover,Whose flame the ashes of neglect can cover.'Have you beheld how, when the moors and marshBelch vapours to blemish bright Titan's eye,They with his rays wage conflicts long and harsh,Confining them unto their proper sky2780(Bribèd perchance by envious night to wrapDay and his champion in his sooty lap).So that to us appears nor sun nor day,And only faith persuades us there is both,Till day and sun call in each straggling ray,And force a passage, spite of fume and froth:Yet then the day but newly seems to dawn,And o'er the sun a veil of cypress drawn.Just so diseasing sorrow, armed with tears,Sighs, and black melancholy veiled her face;2790So that no ray of loveliness appears,And only faith persuades us she has grace.Her eyes retired, her double blush was wanned,Her locks dissevered, and her lilies tanned.And as, in her which arted looks does wear,Men look for nature's steps, and cannot trace her;Since she, by nature nothing less than fair,Hath purchased from the shops such worth to grace her;Though foul, now fair and sleek, though age did ploughAnd made long furrows in her cheek and brow.2800So knowledge here was in a maze: the eye,That knew Bellama, did Bellama seek,And, looking on her, nothing could descrySpake her Bellama, or in eye or cheek.To love's harsh laws she gave such constant duty,Sh'ad only left an anagram of beauty.She threw herself upon her couch of ease,And marshalled all her thoughts in just arrays;This brought small comfort, that did hardly please,And in that thought despair the sceptre sways.2810Yet thought she not death could a period set,Unless he did some strange advantage get.'He's young and lusty: every vein does swellWith aqua-vitae, coral juice of life;His skill in magic else can frame a spellTo distance meagre death and Atrop's knife.Yet love gives birth to fear: I'll send to searchThe lion's flinty bed, and vulture's perch.I and my woman will attend the quest,Veiled in disguises of some country lasses;2820No state-distinction, for my humble breastShall leave all pride with silks, perfumes, and glasses;And, if withnon inventuswe return,I'll Venus' witchcraft hate and Cupid spurn.'When as the sovereign of the day had drawnA veil of brightness o'er the twinkling lamps,And threw on Cynthia's brow a double lawn,Clearing the welkin from benighting damps,They in the habits of a milking maid(All but skin-linen) did their beauties shade.2830And in these coarse attires they hasted outTo seek Albino through each wood and plain,Whom we will leave to pace the world aboutAnd see Felice, wet with eye-lid rain,Whose bondage was the greater, since despairBlasted all hopes which promised her the air.The brazen bull, strappado, or the rack,The faggot-torture, and the piked barrell,Balanced with his, degrees of sorrow lack:'Tis with a bulrush to decide a quarrel.2840The famine wherewithal the Thracian knightWas sent to Pluto wants a little weight.He that stole fire fro' th' chariot of the Sun,Whose liver's vulture-gnawn at Caucasus;He that the counsels of the gods unspun,Like wanton's eyes, stone-rolling Sisyphus;Hold best proportion with these sharp'ned woes,Which stern misfortune on Felice throws.She, that was glutted with most curious cates,Had every pleasure to content her lust,2850Who had command o'er Fortune and the Fates,Now sups up pulse and gnaws a fleecèd crust.She that had many girls is now alone,And of so many cannot compass one.Had I a fancy steeped in sorrow's brine,Invention witty in the threnes of woe;Could sad experience dictate every line,A dearth of words would to my muse say 'No'.I may as well go fathom all the spheresAs measure her disasters, count her tears.2860Oft on remembrance of that harmless bliss,Which (copèd) she enjoyed, her thoughts would feed,Oft on Bellama's beauty, touch and kiss,Till strucken dead with thought of present need.Then would she raise her thoughts, and hope for day,And starting up from silence boldly say:'Despite of Envy's vipers, tricks, and wiles,My cradle-playmate, Mirth, I'll ne'er forsake,But taste Sardinian herbs shall raise up smiles,Though I was wafting o'er the Stygian lake.2870Tortures shall ne'er unman me; but I'll beAlbino, Malice, 'spite of her and thee.Delays ofttimes, from time's secluded parts,Bring help to helpless not expecting aid;Some of the gods will pity these my smarts,Not suffer them to whet the sexton's spade.Or if the gods—'midst flames then scorpion-likeI'll gore my breast, and fall on mine own pike.Yet had I suff'red for a courteous one,These woes should ne'er had power t' have raised a sorrow2880But when mine eyes did in my breast enthroneHer—her of whom hell cruelty may borrow.This is the height of woe, death, and diseases,Nay, hell itself to this comparèd pleases.Yet stay, say Neptune's palace shall be land,And this firm ball of earth a liquid brack;Say the North Pole with Phoebus shall be tanned,And to the South the lilies shall be black.Say this, and more, before thou dare to sayBellama isMàboun'orMà bellà.'2890No more of this: we'll for her freedom plot.A pious monk, perceiving well her smart,With diligence assayed to purge each spotWith holy cruse from her diviner part.But still her answer was—nor man, nor lover,Nor she the virgin's ankles did discover.'Alas! my brother I am not a male,But a weak sience of the weaker sex.The ladies spake the truth (might truth prevail)But me with torture Piazell' doth vex;2900'Cause, at my entrance, I did promise fair;Yet 't proves court-language, merely, purely, air.But all this time she would not licence deignThat I three yards behind should leave the gates,And fumèd when I would have left her train,T' have sought a jewel, and to gather dates.So that the Duke my father ne'er had kenOf my encloist'ring in this hate-light den.But, 'gainst it now resolving, I intendTo turn the stream of his munificence2910On you, dear brother, if you'll be my friend,And plot how I may be delivered hence.Lend your endeavours: and I'll lend my wit,Vow faithfulness, and I will warrant it.I'll woo my father for his free assent,If to your barren cowl you'll bid farewell,That Hymen's rites may perfect our content,By joyful echoes of the marriage bell.'Cause you in person do resemble himWhom 'mongst all men I only judgèd trim.'2920The monk gave ear unto her winning prateAnd gazèd on her beauty masculine,Whose feature might delude a wiser pate,Assisted only by a tallow-shine.(For by an unctious salve she kept her chinFrom the hair-mantle of an agèd skin.)'Madam', says he, 'I judge your language true,And to your vows I dare my credence lace:Your virgin-blushes innocence do show,And modesty is printed on your face.2930Faith, truth, and honesty reside with me:My best endeavours shall your servants be.''Well,' says Felice, 'I have now decreed(Since Phoebus has forsook our hemisphere),To sheath my body in your holy weed,Then through the private walk my course will steer.So from your holy walls I'll take my flight,Or by permission, or in silent night.And when I am arrived at Folco's towers,My father shall your matchless kindness know,2940Who, I am sure, will summon all his powersTo fetch thee from this house of flame and snow:And who with much contentment will not brookSome three days' penance to be made a duke?For, by inheritance, the dukedom's mineWhen death unbody shall my father's soul.Since no heir-male's descended from our line,The Salic law cannot my right control.And, to assure thee that I'm only thine,I swear by all the powers that are divine.'2950Then did she circle with ensphering armConrado's neck and amorously him lipp'd,Which did the amorist so strongly charmThat he with haste out of his vestments skipped,And bade Felice change: for in good deedHe should full well become her virgin weed.Felice undressed, and dressed, and having madeHerself a monk, put on Conrado's face,And some few minutes with her monkship played,Then gave a farewell to that hated place.2960But ere her quick dispatch could post her thenceHer beauty shot a fire through every sense.Fear now exiled the confidence he tied,Forced by affection, to Felice's words,Revoked his promise now,—all aid denied;And, with majestic looks and gesture's lordsHis flaming lust dissolved his pious snow,And now his loud desires will have no 'No'.But vows to disenclothe her and to breakHer virgin-seal despite of force or smiles,2970Till Folco strove and made his noddle leakSardonic liquor to new-paint the tiles,So hasted out, and to the matron gaveThe iron porter of Conrado's grave.Imping his haste, he threads the vaulted lane,Not wounded by his soles this many a day,Like those which, when arraigned, a pardon gainDare neither at the jail nor gallows stay.And coming to the postern gate he knocked,Which at devotion time was always locked.2980But when the last Amen had silenced prayer,The porter to Albino entrance gave;Who straight was brought unto the judgement chair,Where, furred with state, did sit the abbot grave.Who said, 'Conrade, why was your stay so long?You missed the manna of the evensong.'Pseudo-Conrado answered him, 'My lord,I found Felice so oppressed with grief,That charity commanded me t'affordBy learning, prayers, and anthems, some relief.2990And truly on my faith I am persuadedA virgin-lady with these weeds is shaded.I, moved to pity by her streaming tears,—Her sighing gales, loud threnes, and sad laments,Won by her beauty, and her tender years,Have promised aid, confirmed by your assents,And in all haste will tell her father's graceWhat clouds of woe bemist Felice's face.She promised me when as her freedom's sealed,When she shall re-enjoy the glorious light,3000When the sad sentence of her woe's repealedShe will be mine in spite of envy's might.Nay more, she from the dukedom will extractSome lordships to perform a pious act.'Forthwith, a synod of the holy menWas called to broach the wisdom of their pates.The questions were proposed—"Who? What? and When?The 'who', is Folco's daughter; 'what', estates;The 'when', so soon as she, by Folco's powers,Shall shell her body in proud Gurby's towers.3010This answer smelt of profit, and did gainThe abbot's liking, and his griping crew.Says he, 'Conrado, true content does reignAnd triumph in our thoughts: we yield to you.Success wait on thy voice: for to thy careOur wishes, hopes, desires, entrusted are.''Fear not,' quoth he, 'my faith dares warrant all.All things are real as my words are true.Myself will pace unto fair Gurby hall,And with emphatic language plead and sue:3020So that old Folco's lungs shall crack with laughterTo hear me chat the travails of his daughter.First she, mistrusting that she should be forc'd,By his proud nod, unto a hated pillow,From folly, Folco, folk, herself divorced,To twist, for scornèd maids, some wreaths of willow.How zealously she prayed, and looked demurely!She is, in thought and word, a virgin surely.But the conceit is this—Who bridles laughter,That virgins holy, pure, and nuns to boot,3030Should thicken with the pills of Folco's daughter,Sing lullabies, and to Lucina hoot?T' increase the wonder then, and imp his pleasures,To Folco I'll present these waggish measures.'Behold, admire, and some contentment gatherFrom nuns that teem, manned by a virgin-father.Wonder and admiration cease to gazeOn flashing meteors, stars, and comets' blaze.Let not Vitruvius or th' Ichonian beast,Putzol or Etna slide into your breast.3040Ope not your ears unto those cracks of thunder,Whose cannon-echoes split the orbs in sunder.Lend not your audience to those fond reportsOf Ob'ron, Mabell, and their fairy sports,Nor tie your credence to the poet's penWhich writes the noble acts of warlike men,Of monsters, mooncalves, merry games, and masks,Atlas' stiff shoulders, and Alcides' tasks.Amazement flies these babbles, and does pinFaith, eyes, and thoughts, unto this curtain-sin;3050That a pure virgin should unvirgin others,And, though a virgin, yet make many mothers;Make them heave up, be qualmish, pale, and cry'A midwife (ho!) a midwife: else we die.'It is an Afric crow, a sable swan,To have a vestal puffèd up with man:But that so many nuns unmaidened areB' a nun without a man is more than rare.The Sybil's virgin is not worth a rush,And Merlin's mother may with envy blush.3060These, though they soared above the pitch of reason,Yet crossed not nature's order, course, or season.For women teemed as women, but a womanAs man, makes virgins teem, and yet is no man.This—this is object unto fame and wonder,Then make each clime with thisMirandumthunder.About this time night summoned them to rest,And each repairèd to his sturdy bed.Albino's fears his hopes and joys suppressed;But, in the rest, content struck sorrow dead.3070They slept until the bright enlight'ned air,With silver glitter, called them up to prayer.But our Albin' took earlier leave of sleep,And sheathed his body in his monkish vests;Knocked at his lodge, which did the entrance keep,Who that he could not wake himself protests:'Thou art some fury, hag, or Hob I trow,That boldly at my lodge dost thunder so.'Albino says, 'What frenzy damps thy reason?Arise, my haste commands a frequent rap.'3080'Begone,' quoth he, 'entreats are out of season.Worshipful Hob, I'll have another nap.'Tis not mine hour to rise until I hearThe clapper sound asurgein mine ear.'When our young monk had many minutes spent,And could not Foppo from his pillow rear,About that time light's charioteer had sentDay's trusty harbinger his orb to clear.He searched the walls, and trafficked with the lock;But all in vain, he must implore the frock.3090The chapel-clerk, as constant to his hourAs is day's herald which at breaking crows,Seeing Aurora did his windows scourAnd leapt into his chamber, straight arose:Making the shrill-toned bell in echoes speak,'Awake and rise to prayer, the day does break.'Foppo was at that time in Morpheus' court,Where he with apparitions was affrighted;The scene was changed, then came a dainty sport,Whose sudden neatness every sense delighted;3100Then dreamt Albine, their renegado monkWas knocking at his lodge, the otherNunc.Then dreamt he saw a table richly spreadWith all the dainties riot ever felt;All birds of warrant which in woods are bred,With salmon, mullet, turbot, trout, and smelt:The princely-pacing deer, entombed in paste,Embalmed with spices to delight the taste.A sparkling wine, drawn newly from the cheekOf some chaste fair which blushes coloured red,3110With brisk canary and enlivening Greek,Poetic sherry which can sharpen lead—This ravish'd Foppo with a taste content,Till to his ear the bell an errand sent.When, starting up, he deemed the bell did callHis able stomach to a founder's feast,And with all speed was swogging to the hall,But that Albino stayed him by the crest,And lew-warm claret from his hogshead drewTo make his stomach give the deer adieu.3120Quoth he, 'Thou son of Somnus, drowsy slave!Why didst thou not at my loud summons rise?But in a fit of lunacy did raveAs though thy wit had ta'en some new disguise?I'll be your Hob, your hag: and, though I'm loath,Will now chastise thee for thy feignèd sloth.'But whilst his passion took a breathing space,The wak'ned porter from his fists did creep,Fixèd his goggles on his youthful face,And then rememb'red his prophetic sleep.3130Tells him he's not Conrado; for he knowsThat brow, those cheeks, lips, eyes, Albino owes.'And though your wrath should grind me unto powder,Without a warrant, I will ope no gate.'This answer made Albino's anger louder,And vowed a passage, bought at any rate.So leapt upon the slave with nimble strength,And measured on the earth his ugly length.Albino hastes to th' postern; having gotThe keys, but 'mongst so many much was puzzled3140To find the right; Foppo meanwhile did trotUnto some chambers where the shavelings nuzzled,And them with outcries raisèd to surpriseAlbino, larvèd in Conrado's guise.Like penancers with linen on their backs,The baldpates ran to seize upon their prey;But yet their haste a semi-moment lacks:Albino through the gate had found a way.And, snatching out the keys, did them encage,Raising a bulwark to withstand their rage.3150Then thanked his stars that thus delivered himFrom dangers which did threaten naught but death.For he by th' verge ofMare mortdid swim,And did expect his latest gale to breath.Nay, these late troubles had him so disheartedThat every shadow 'lmost the union parted.You, whose disasters some proportion hold,Help my weak fancy to express his fears;Teach me my rhymes in cypress to enfold,From thwarted lovers borrow me some tears;3160Fetch me some groans from the ascending thief;And from the Inquisition fetch me grief.Without demurs, Albino left the wicket,Fearing the monks should bribe the faithless lock,And steered his course unto a well-grown thicket,Whose lofty hill was armed with many a rock.He envies sculls that wait on spit and oven,And vows ne'er more to see that hated coven.Have you beheld the stately-pacing stag,Flying the echoes of some deep-mouthed hounds?3170How first his brow does wear a ferny flag,And with curvettings beats the quaking ground;Telling the fawns and wood-nymphs that he scornsThe hounds, horse, huntsmen, and their warbling horns.But when he is embossed in blood and sweat,When travail on his swiftness fetters hangs,He then is frighted with the shrill recheat,And fears a pinking with the yellers' fangs.Seeks ev'rywhere for shelter, and dares rushMalèd with fear, into the sharpest bush.3180So fared it with Albino: whilst he hadFate at a beck, commanded Fortune's wheel,Was callèd by his Donnes, active lad,He thought his joys were wallèd in with steel,Slighted misfortune, envy set at naught,And, braving malice, dared in every thought.But when his tow'ring heart was taught to knowHumiliation, and self-confidenceWas strucken dead with famine, flame, and snow;Although his genial stars had freed him thence,3190He fears the monkish rabble, and he shroudsHimself in caves, encurtained round with clouds.In his dark house he heard a feeble voice,Breathed from the corals of some weak'ned maid.At first concealment was his better choice,Till pity set an edge upon his blade.Then guided by the cry, he saw a roisterDid in his arms perforce a nymph encloister.Yet, seeing home-spun russet, stopped his pace;Saying, 'By this what honour shall I gain?'3200But in his eye so curious was her face,Though masked and blubbered o'er with brackish rain,That he forthwith unsheathed his trusty Turk,Called forth that blood which in his veins did lurk.So, stepping forward, cries, 'Injurious slave,Unto what baseness does thy folly tempt her?'Who answered him, 'Fond fool, thy foolish braveFrom my decreèd end shall not exempt her.Befriend me, Queen of Cyprus! and in spiteOf force or fortune, I'll have my delight.'3210'Desist,' Albino says, 'or else I vow,By all those tapers which enrich the night,I'll make pale death strew cypress on thy brow.And to th' infernal shades thy soul will fright.Cease from thy brutish rape, or else prepareThy cursed lungs to draw the Stygian air.'Quoth the rude Sylvan, 'I am past that ageWhich with bugbears the foppish nurse does fright.Hence, curtain-squire, smock-groom, and urine-page!I'll have no testates unto my delight.3220Pack hence with speed, or by Actaeon's head,My weighty falchion shall pronounce thee dead.''Well,' says Albino, 'since thou'lt not desist,Prove the adventures of a bloody duel.One of our threads fell Atrop's shall untwist,For to my rage kind pity lendeth fuel.To free a virgin from thy gripping pawsI judge well pleasing unto nature's laws.'They clasp'd their helms, and buckled to their fight,'Twixt whom no umpire was but meagre death.3230The woodwards green with Tyrian dye was dightWho now desires a minute's space to breath.Albino gave the truce, yet but to breath;His valour scorned to crowd into the sheath.Then did his nimble sleight and courage show,Feigning a stroke, but pointed at his breast,Which oped a door whereat his spirits flew,And wellnigh set his fainting soul at rest.With that th' enfeebled Sylvan weakly cries'Hold, hold thy hand! or else Sylvanus dies.'3240'Dost call for mercy,' says Albino, 'now?And all thy thoughts erstwhile triumphant rid?I seek not murder, may I save my vow.That I should joy in blood my stars forbid.I am content the virgin's voice shall sealThy death, or pardon, if thou make appeal.''Fair virgin,' quoth Sylvanus, 'pity isThe only grace that gives a virgin price.Remission crowns a heart with greater bliss,Than to hang iron on weak nature's vice.3250The rays of your bright beauty urged desire;Your feature kindled lust, love blowed the fire.'The virgin answered, 'I did never suckThe tiger's dugs, the lioness, and bear,Nor from a reeking breast an heart did pluck.Never will I in blood with vulture's share.But, since submission speaks from voice and knee,Kind pity thins the fault, and pardons thee.'
She snatched her termers from the sweet embrace,And golden fetters of death's elder brother,Bidding them hence those deading slumbers chaseT' implore the favour of the Virgin-mother.They starting up with more than common speed,Each shelled her body in her modest weed.
She snatched her termers from the sweet embrace,
And golden fetters of death's elder brother,
Bidding them hence those deading slumbers chase
T' implore the favour of the Virgin-mother.
They starting up with more than common speed,
Each shelled her body in her modest weed.
So called to chapel those whose pregnant wombsThe angel's pills had heaved above their waists,2550Like to a surfeit ta'en of Hybla's combs,When we are too indulgent to our tastes.But left Felice out to cut or sew,Or to embroider with the lanky crew.
So called to chapel those whose pregnant wombs
The angel's pills had heaved above their waists,
2550Like to a surfeit ta'en of Hybla's combs,
When we are too indulgent to our tastes.
But left Felice out to cut or sew,
Or to embroider with the lanky crew.
Which made a sudden faintness loose each part,And every joint was like an aspen leaf;Her rosy twins retired to her heart,Her looks were coloured like a sunburnt sheaf,As the stiff bristles of an aged boarWere her smooth locks, which o'er her cheeks she wore
Which made a sudden faintness loose each part,
And every joint was like an aspen leaf;
Her rosy twins retired to her heart,
Her looks were coloured like a sunburnt sheaf,
As the stiff bristles of an aged boar
Were her smooth locks, which o'er her cheeks she wore
2560And juster cause had none than she to fear,For as from quiet slumber she awokeShe heard the ptisick pick Pazzella's earThat she had knowledge of what Floris spoke.And now she doubted all would come to th' scanningTheir longing, swelling and their sudden wanning.
2560And juster cause had none than she to fear,
For as from quiet slumber she awoke
She heard the ptisick pick Pazzella's ear
That she had knowledge of what Floris spoke.
And now she doubted all would come to th' scanning
Their longing, swelling and their sudden wanning.
The virgins wondered at Felice's change,To see her eyes fix'd in a white-limed wall;Each feared herself, and each conceived 'twas strangeLest the disease was epidemical:—2570That Merlin's uncle changed Felice's hue,And streaked their temples with a purple blue.
The virgins wondered at Felice's change,
To see her eyes fix'd in a white-limed wall;
Each feared herself, and each conceived 'twas strange
Lest the disease was epidemical:—
2570That Merlin's uncle changed Felice's hue,
And streaked their temples with a purple blue.
But leave her sighing with these sterile dames,We'll crowd into the house of sacred vowsWhere consciousness, begetting female shames,Spread scarlet carpets on their cheeks and brows.They looked, and blushed, and glanced on one another:Each cursed the minute which did dub her mother.
But leave her sighing with these sterile dames,
We'll crowd into the house of sacred vows
Where consciousness, begetting female shames,
Spread scarlet carpets on their cheeks and brows.
They looked, and blushed, and glanced on one another:
Each cursed the minute which did dub her mother.
The holy brethren, through the mouldy pipe,At that same time did unexpected come,2580To know if th' goddy issue yet was ripeTo give adieu unto their skin-sealed home.But viewing still their wombs, with zealous hands,They prayed Lucina to untie their bands.
The holy brethren, through the mouldy pipe,
At that same time did unexpected come,
2580To know if th' goddy issue yet was ripe
To give adieu unto their skin-sealed home.
But viewing still their wombs, with zealous hands,
They prayed Lucina to untie their bands.
Their chantings dead, the abbotess began;'Brethren, you see what sad misfortune hapsUnto my virgins by the oil of man,Witness the heaving of their spongy paps.We of an angel dreamed, but if he wasHe shall hereafter for an evil pass.
Their chantings dead, the abbotess began;
'Brethren, you see what sad misfortune haps
Unto my virgins by the oil of man,
Witness the heaving of their spongy paps.
We of an angel dreamed, but if he was
He shall hereafter for an evil pass.
2590'I made their slumbers vocal, so they told'Twas Folco's duke's supposèd daughter's work.Larved with that name, it seems some roister boldThem to unvirgin cunningly did lurk.But since 'tis so, the proverb shall stand good,Tart sauces must be mixed with luscious food.
2590'I made their slumbers vocal, so they told
'Twas Folco's duke's supposèd daughter's work.
Larved with that name, it seems some roister bold
Them to unvirgin cunningly did lurk.
But since 'tis so, the proverb shall stand good,
Tart sauces must be mixed with luscious food.
I knew him to be wanton, and to chillThe raging heat of his unbridled lust,I doomed him three days' penance, judged an illWould make him sapless as the summer's dust.2600But since that failed, days shall be chang'd to years,Minutes to months, till paid his tribute tears.
I knew him to be wanton, and to chill
The raging heat of his unbridled lust,
I doomed him three days' penance, judged an ill
Would make him sapless as the summer's dust.
2600But since that failed, days shall be chang'd to years,
Minutes to months, till paid his tribute tears.
I'll try if grief will drain his melting reins,And hang a crutch upon his able back;If sorrow will unblood his swelling veinsAnd make his sinews, shrunk with famine, crack.I'll make a purgatory, where with hunger,Frost, flame, and snow, I'll tame my virgin-monger.
I'll try if grief will drain his melting reins,
And hang a crutch upon his able back;
If sorrow will unblood his swelling veins
And make his sinews, shrunk with famine, crack.
I'll make a purgatory, where with hunger,
Frost, flame, and snow, I'll tame my virgin-monger.
I'll give command a dungeon shall be made,To whose close womb the sun shall never pry,2610Nor Cynthia dare to peep: for gloomy shadeLike cloudy night shall purblind every eye:Bare measure four-foot broad; and for that height'T shall make him by constraint, not court, lie slight.
I'll give command a dungeon shall be made,
To whose close womb the sun shall never pry,
2610Nor Cynthia dare to peep: for gloomy shade
Like cloudy night shall purblind every eye:
Bare measure four-foot broad; and for that height
'T shall make him by constraint, not court, lie slight.
A bedstead hewn out of the craggy rock,Not arched with cedar wainscot, knobbed with gold;His bed no shrinker, but a sturdy flock,Swans shall not be deplumed his limbs t'infold.Nor curtained with the travails of the loomOf poor Arachne, ere she had her doom.
A bedstead hewn out of the craggy rock,
Not arched with cedar wainscot, knobbed with gold;
His bed no shrinker, but a sturdy flock,
Swans shall not be deplumed his limbs t'infold.
Nor curtained with the travails of the loom
Of poor Arachne, ere she had her doom.
2620I will not spend the ransom of a crownFor curious dainties to delight his taste.I'll fetch no fowls from off the Parthian down,Or Phaenicopter for luxurious waste.I will no mullet from Corsica take,Oysters from Circe's or the Lucrine lake.
2620I will not spend the ransom of a crown
For curious dainties to delight his taste.
I'll fetch no fowls from off the Parthian down,
Or Phaenicopter for luxurious waste.
I will no mullet from Corsica take,
Oysters from Circe's or the Lucrine lake.
I will allow him pottage, thicked with bran,Of barley-meal a choenix every day,A sovereign diet for a frolic manThat is affected with the Paphian play.2630And lest his stomach should too chol'ric grow,I will afford him some congealed snow.'
I will allow him pottage, thicked with bran,
Of barley-meal a choenix every day,
A sovereign diet for a frolic man
That is affected with the Paphian play.
2630And lest his stomach should too chol'ric grow,
I will afford him some congealed snow.'
The bald-pate crew this penance well approved,And, in a trice, all things she ready got.So well she stirred her stumps (as it behoved)She being hatcher of this starving plot.This done, with friendly words and courteous air,She called Felice to her house of prayer.
The bald-pate crew this penance well approved,
And, in a trice, all things she ready got.
So well she stirred her stumps (as it behoved)
She being hatcher of this starving plot.
This done, with friendly words and courteous air,
She called Felice to her house of prayer.
'It suits not with your greatness, madam fair,Being sole daughter to so great a man,2640To lodge with those which your inferiors are,As much as is an inch unto a span,And I'm afraid the Duke will fume and swear,Should but your lodging step into his ear.'
'It suits not with your greatness, madam fair,
Being sole daughter to so great a man,
2640To lodge with those which your inferiors are,
As much as is an inch unto a span,
And I'm afraid the Duke will fume and swear,
Should but your lodging step into his ear.'
'Madam,' quoth she, 'you harbour needless fears.Goodness, not greatness, differenceth maids.My father's no tobacconist; and swearsIn point of honour like our scarlet blades.And, by my faith, it more contenteth meTo sheet with maidens though of mean degree.
'Madam,' quoth she, 'you harbour needless fears.
Goodness, not greatness, differenceth maids.
My father's no tobacconist; and swears
In point of honour like our scarlet blades.
And, by my faith, it more contenteth me
To sheet with maidens though of mean degree.
2650I am surchargèd with the black-hued choler,Which strikes my fancy with most ugly shapes.I durst not rest a-darkness for a dolour,Without a pillow-friend to scare those apes:Let Cloe with conceits my spirits wing,Or melancholy will my requiem sing.'
2650I am surchargèd with the black-hued choler,
Which strikes my fancy with most ugly shapes.
I durst not rest a-darkness for a dolour,
Without a pillow-friend to scare those apes:
Let Cloe with conceits my spirits wing,
Or melancholy will my requiem sing.'
'You shall,' says she, 'have Sesamoidesse.For all entreats are of too dull a print.
'You shall,' says she, 'have Sesamoidesse.
For all entreats are of too dull a print.
We must respect your father's worthiness,His honour must your love and passions stint,2660And your own worth must highly be regarded,How shall I else expect to be rewarded?'
We must respect your father's worthiness,
His honour must your love and passions stint,
2660And your own worth must highly be regarded,
How shall I else expect to be rewarded?'
Then did she take her by the tender hand,And led her to her grot in princely state.She feared not much, nor did her will withstand,Judging divorcement was her harshest fate;But when she saw the entrance was so narrowA sudden fear did eat up all her marrow.
Then did she take her by the tender hand,
And led her to her grot in princely state.
She feared not much, nor did her will withstand,
Judging divorcement was her harshest fate;
But when she saw the entrance was so narrow
A sudden fear did eat up all her marrow.
Pazzella, viewing her supposèd lass,Repented her of her intended ills;2670But injuries engraven are on brass,And women's jointures are to have their wills.And lest remorse should chill her angry mood,Fuel was added by the brotherhood.
Pazzella, viewing her supposèd lass,
Repented her of her intended ills;
2670But injuries engraven are on brass,
And women's jointures are to have their wills.
And lest remorse should chill her angry mood,
Fuel was added by the brotherhood.
'Then,' says she, 'madam, you behold the cageWhich I preparèd for your honour's good,Where you may spend the autumn of your age.Till age and winter have congealed your blood.You may retire to ease: for envy canNor dares to say you're not an able man.
'Then,' says she, 'madam, you behold the cage
Which I preparèd for your honour's good,
Where you may spend the autumn of your age.
Till age and winter have congealed your blood.
You may retire to ease: for envy can
Nor dares to say you're not an able man.
2680When twice ten circled snakes are crawled away,You shall enjoy companions masculine,To give instructions in that youthful playIs fed with Ceres and the god of wine.And, if my virgins shall hereafter beLascivious given, I will send for thee.'
2680When twice ten circled snakes are crawled away,
You shall enjoy companions masculine,
To give instructions in that youthful play
Is fed with Ceres and the god of wine.
And, if my virgins shall hereafter be
Lascivious given, I will send for thee.'
Into this coven was Felice thrust,With bars and locks the entrance sealèd fast,Now must he pay a dear rate for his lust,His curtain-vezzo, and the coral taste.2690Sure his repentance will be full as dearAs the philosopher'snon tantiwere.
Into this coven was Felice thrust,
With bars and locks the entrance sealèd fast,
Now must he pay a dear rate for his lust,
His curtain-vezzo, and the coral taste.
2690Sure his repentance will be full as dear
As the philosopher'snon tantiwere.
Ah, foppish monk! did not Bellama's 'no'Give thee a warning-piece presaging danger,But thou must headlong rush upon thy woe?Happy's that man which is to lust a stranger!If this of dalliance is the constant fee,Let them d——dally that do list, for me.
Ah, foppish monk! did not Bellama's 'no'
Give thee a warning-piece presaging danger,
But thou must headlong rush upon thy woe?
Happy's that man which is to lust a stranger!
If this of dalliance is the constant fee,
Let them d——dally that do list, for me.
Here, when the barking star his sceptre waved,When in our clime we feel an Ethiope's heat,2700An undervault the subtil matron paved,With fire and flame to force a constant sweat,That, as from flowers hot limbecks water 'still,So by this stove from him sweat-currents drill.
Here, when the barking star his sceptre waved,
When in our clime we feel an Ethiope's heat,
2700An undervault the subtil matron paved,
With fire and flame to force a constant sweat,
That, as from flowers hot limbecks water 'still,
So by this stove from him sweat-currents drill.
Then, for the winter season she providedA melting cloud full fraught with feath'red rain(Whose curious art the air-borne clouds derided),Which through some oillet holes might passage gain.His cabin should have been, like Alps' cold height,Mantled and strewèd o'er with winter's white.
Then, for the winter season she provided
A melting cloud full fraught with feath'red rain
(Whose curious art the air-borne clouds derided),
Which through some oillet holes might passage gain.
His cabin should have been, like Alps' cold height,
Mantled and strewèd o'er with winter's white.
2710And 'twas so dark, I cannot see to write.Nay, at a nonplus it all pencils sets.'Twas hell's epitome, the cage of night,Walled in with pitch and roofed o'er with jets.The lynx at midday here would wish for day,And cats without a torch must grope their way.
2710And 'twas so dark, I cannot see to write.
Nay, at a nonplus it all pencils sets.
'Twas hell's epitome, the cage of night,
Walled in with pitch and roofed o'er with jets.
The lynx at midday here would wish for day,
And cats without a torch must grope their way.
But leave him labyrinthed and thus distressed,And see Bellama, and examine howShe brooks the absence of her bosom-guest,If discontent does revel on her brow.2720It does: for why, she dreams and never sleeps,She feeds and fats not, laughs, but ever weeps.
But leave him labyrinthed and thus distressed,
And see Bellama, and examine how
She brooks the absence of her bosom-guest,
If discontent does revel on her brow.
2720It does: for why, she dreams and never sleeps,
She feeds and fats not, laughs, but ever weeps.
'Disaster hangs upon Albino gyves,'Says she, 'else Envy keeps him prisoner,Or a new bull does interdict them wives,So seals the lips of my petitioner.Else the smirk knave is so devout in pray'r,He has no time to kiss the common air.
'Disaster hangs upon Albino gyves,'
Says she, 'else Envy keeps him prisoner,
Or a new bull does interdict them wives,
So seals the lips of my petitioner.
Else the smirk knave is so devout in pray'r,
He has no time to kiss the common air.
But does he love? or is 't a fit of mirth,Which, like to children's fancies, soon expire2730Ere language or employment give them birth,Flashing affections, aged like thunder-fire?His eyes shot Cupids at my yielding heart,But his firm breast repelled my feeble dart.
But does he love? or is 't a fit of mirth,
Which, like to children's fancies, soon expire
2730Ere language or employment give them birth,
Flashing affections, aged like thunder-fire?
His eyes shot Cupids at my yielding heart,
But his firm breast repelled my feeble dart.
Perchance he judged my forwardness to love,By too much court'sy, and my frequent glances.So thought in jest my willingness to prove,Not with that sober passion which entrances;But with lip-love, which to the heart ne'er sinks,And paper-vows which take their birth from inks.
Perchance he judged my forwardness to love,
By too much court'sy, and my frequent glances.
So thought in jest my willingness to prove,
Not with that sober passion which entrances;
But with lip-love, which to the heart ne'er sinks,
And paper-vows which take their birth from inks.
2740But stay: does greatness use to be denied?Beauty and bravery command a grant.Yet might my looks and carriage plumed with prideHis humble and untow'ring spirit daunt.Daunt? no: his soul's a temper most divine,Dares soar aloft to kiss the sun's near shine.
2740But stay: does greatness use to be denied?
Beauty and bravery command a grant.
Yet might my looks and carriage plumed with pride
His humble and untow'ring spirit daunt.
Daunt? no: his soul's a temper most divine,
Dares soar aloft to kiss the sun's near shine.
Then love he does: but must this action, woo,Be tied by patent only unto men?Some unfrequented paths of love I'll go,And in some riddles court him by my pen.2750Yet first to th' abbey I'll dispatch a post,To make inquiry where my monk doth host.'
Then love he does: but must this action, woo,
Be tied by patent only unto men?
Some unfrequented paths of love I'll go,
And in some riddles court him by my pen.
2750Yet first to th' abbey I'll dispatch a post,
To make inquiry where my monk doth host.'
The merchant is not with desires so big,When as he ploughs the sea for Indian mines;With slower steps the sons of Bacchus trigTo sack-shops for the French and Spanish wines;Than she to Tagus bids her servant goTo Croftfull Abbey where her wishes grow.
The merchant is not with desires so big,
When as he ploughs the sea for Indian mines;
With slower steps the sons of Bacchus trig
To sack-shops for the French and Spanish wines;
Than she to Tagus bids her servant go
To Croftfull Abbey where her wishes grow.
Gone is the messenger: but small successWaits on his travels, for he back returns2760With, 'Madam, where Albino's none can guess.They think his ashes are enclosed in urns.For time, say they, has counted fortnights many,Since his choice feature object was to any.'
Gone is the messenger: but small success
Waits on his travels, for he back returns
2760With, 'Madam, where Albino's none can guess.
They think his ashes are enclosed in urns.
For time, say they, has counted fortnights many,
Since his choice feature object was to any.'
This answer shot an hailstorm at her heart,Whose sudden chillness jellied all her blood,Sh' applièd Holco to unscrew the dart,But her assayments brought her little good.For, but Albino, none can cure her ill,Not physic potions, or the druggard's skill.
This answer shot an hailstorm at her heart,
Whose sudden chillness jellied all her blood,
Sh' applièd Holco to unscrew the dart,
But her assayments brought her little good.
For, but Albino, none can cure her ill,
Not physic potions, or the druggard's skill.
2770'Ah me! has Fate my dear Albino ta'en?Then farewell music, and you sprucing trade;Either my tears shall body him again,Or send my ghost to wait upon his shade.For she is judged a light unconstant lover,Whose flame the ashes of neglect can cover.'
2770'Ah me! has Fate my dear Albino ta'en?
Then farewell music, and you sprucing trade;
Either my tears shall body him again,
Or send my ghost to wait upon his shade.
For she is judged a light unconstant lover,
Whose flame the ashes of neglect can cover.'
Have you beheld how, when the moors and marshBelch vapours to blemish bright Titan's eye,They with his rays wage conflicts long and harsh,Confining them unto their proper sky2780(Bribèd perchance by envious night to wrapDay and his champion in his sooty lap).
Have you beheld how, when the moors and marsh
Belch vapours to blemish bright Titan's eye,
They with his rays wage conflicts long and harsh,
Confining them unto their proper sky
2780(Bribèd perchance by envious night to wrap
Day and his champion in his sooty lap).
So that to us appears nor sun nor day,And only faith persuades us there is both,Till day and sun call in each straggling ray,And force a passage, spite of fume and froth:Yet then the day but newly seems to dawn,And o'er the sun a veil of cypress drawn.
So that to us appears nor sun nor day,
And only faith persuades us there is both,
Till day and sun call in each straggling ray,
And force a passage, spite of fume and froth:
Yet then the day but newly seems to dawn,
And o'er the sun a veil of cypress drawn.
Just so diseasing sorrow, armed with tears,Sighs, and black melancholy veiled her face;2790So that no ray of loveliness appears,And only faith persuades us she has grace.Her eyes retired, her double blush was wanned,Her locks dissevered, and her lilies tanned.
Just so diseasing sorrow, armed with tears,
Sighs, and black melancholy veiled her face;
2790So that no ray of loveliness appears,
And only faith persuades us she has grace.
Her eyes retired, her double blush was wanned,
Her locks dissevered, and her lilies tanned.
And as, in her which arted looks does wear,Men look for nature's steps, and cannot trace her;Since she, by nature nothing less than fair,Hath purchased from the shops such worth to grace her;Though foul, now fair and sleek, though age did ploughAnd made long furrows in her cheek and brow.
And as, in her which arted looks does wear,
Men look for nature's steps, and cannot trace her;
Since she, by nature nothing less than fair,
Hath purchased from the shops such worth to grace her;
Though foul, now fair and sleek, though age did plough
And made long furrows in her cheek and brow.
2800So knowledge here was in a maze: the eye,That knew Bellama, did Bellama seek,And, looking on her, nothing could descrySpake her Bellama, or in eye or cheek.To love's harsh laws she gave such constant duty,Sh'ad only left an anagram of beauty.
2800So knowledge here was in a maze: the eye,
That knew Bellama, did Bellama seek,
And, looking on her, nothing could descry
Spake her Bellama, or in eye or cheek.
To love's harsh laws she gave such constant duty,
Sh'ad only left an anagram of beauty.
She threw herself upon her couch of ease,And marshalled all her thoughts in just arrays;This brought small comfort, that did hardly please,And in that thought despair the sceptre sways.2810Yet thought she not death could a period set,Unless he did some strange advantage get.
She threw herself upon her couch of ease,
And marshalled all her thoughts in just arrays;
This brought small comfort, that did hardly please,
And in that thought despair the sceptre sways.
2810Yet thought she not death could a period set,
Unless he did some strange advantage get.
'He's young and lusty: every vein does swellWith aqua-vitae, coral juice of life;His skill in magic else can frame a spellTo distance meagre death and Atrop's knife.Yet love gives birth to fear: I'll send to searchThe lion's flinty bed, and vulture's perch.
'He's young and lusty: every vein does swell
With aqua-vitae, coral juice of life;
His skill in magic else can frame a spell
To distance meagre death and Atrop's knife.
Yet love gives birth to fear: I'll send to search
The lion's flinty bed, and vulture's perch.
I and my woman will attend the quest,Veiled in disguises of some country lasses;2820No state-distinction, for my humble breastShall leave all pride with silks, perfumes, and glasses;And, if withnon inventuswe return,I'll Venus' witchcraft hate and Cupid spurn.'
I and my woman will attend the quest,
Veiled in disguises of some country lasses;
2820No state-distinction, for my humble breast
Shall leave all pride with silks, perfumes, and glasses;
And, if withnon inventuswe return,
I'll Venus' witchcraft hate and Cupid spurn.'
When as the sovereign of the day had drawnA veil of brightness o'er the twinkling lamps,And threw on Cynthia's brow a double lawn,Clearing the welkin from benighting damps,They in the habits of a milking maid(All but skin-linen) did their beauties shade.
When as the sovereign of the day had drawn
A veil of brightness o'er the twinkling lamps,
And threw on Cynthia's brow a double lawn,
Clearing the welkin from benighting damps,
They in the habits of a milking maid
(All but skin-linen) did their beauties shade.
2830And in these coarse attires they hasted outTo seek Albino through each wood and plain,Whom we will leave to pace the world aboutAnd see Felice, wet with eye-lid rain,Whose bondage was the greater, since despairBlasted all hopes which promised her the air.
2830And in these coarse attires they hasted out
To seek Albino through each wood and plain,
Whom we will leave to pace the world about
And see Felice, wet with eye-lid rain,
Whose bondage was the greater, since despair
Blasted all hopes which promised her the air.
The brazen bull, strappado, or the rack,The faggot-torture, and the piked barrell,Balanced with his, degrees of sorrow lack:'Tis with a bulrush to decide a quarrel.2840The famine wherewithal the Thracian knightWas sent to Pluto wants a little weight.
The brazen bull, strappado, or the rack,
The faggot-torture, and the piked barrell,
Balanced with his, degrees of sorrow lack:
'Tis with a bulrush to decide a quarrel.
2840The famine wherewithal the Thracian knight
Was sent to Pluto wants a little weight.
He that stole fire fro' th' chariot of the Sun,Whose liver's vulture-gnawn at Caucasus;He that the counsels of the gods unspun,Like wanton's eyes, stone-rolling Sisyphus;Hold best proportion with these sharp'ned woes,Which stern misfortune on Felice throws.
He that stole fire fro' th' chariot of the Sun,
Whose liver's vulture-gnawn at Caucasus;
He that the counsels of the gods unspun,
Like wanton's eyes, stone-rolling Sisyphus;
Hold best proportion with these sharp'ned woes,
Which stern misfortune on Felice throws.
She, that was glutted with most curious cates,Had every pleasure to content her lust,2850Who had command o'er Fortune and the Fates,Now sups up pulse and gnaws a fleecèd crust.She that had many girls is now alone,And of so many cannot compass one.
She, that was glutted with most curious cates,
Had every pleasure to content her lust,
2850Who had command o'er Fortune and the Fates,
Now sups up pulse and gnaws a fleecèd crust.
She that had many girls is now alone,
And of so many cannot compass one.
Had I a fancy steeped in sorrow's brine,Invention witty in the threnes of woe;Could sad experience dictate every line,A dearth of words would to my muse say 'No'.I may as well go fathom all the spheresAs measure her disasters, count her tears.
Had I a fancy steeped in sorrow's brine,
Invention witty in the threnes of woe;
Could sad experience dictate every line,
A dearth of words would to my muse say 'No'.
I may as well go fathom all the spheres
As measure her disasters, count her tears.
2860Oft on remembrance of that harmless bliss,Which (copèd) she enjoyed, her thoughts would feed,Oft on Bellama's beauty, touch and kiss,Till strucken dead with thought of present need.Then would she raise her thoughts, and hope for day,And starting up from silence boldly say:
2860Oft on remembrance of that harmless bliss,
Which (copèd) she enjoyed, her thoughts would feed,
Oft on Bellama's beauty, touch and kiss,
Till strucken dead with thought of present need.
Then would she raise her thoughts, and hope for day,
And starting up from silence boldly say:
'Despite of Envy's vipers, tricks, and wiles,My cradle-playmate, Mirth, I'll ne'er forsake,But taste Sardinian herbs shall raise up smiles,Though I was wafting o'er the Stygian lake.2870Tortures shall ne'er unman me; but I'll beAlbino, Malice, 'spite of her and thee.
'Despite of Envy's vipers, tricks, and wiles,
My cradle-playmate, Mirth, I'll ne'er forsake,
But taste Sardinian herbs shall raise up smiles,
Though I was wafting o'er the Stygian lake.
2870Tortures shall ne'er unman me; but I'll be
Albino, Malice, 'spite of her and thee.
Delays ofttimes, from time's secluded parts,Bring help to helpless not expecting aid;Some of the gods will pity these my smarts,Not suffer them to whet the sexton's spade.Or if the gods—'midst flames then scorpion-likeI'll gore my breast, and fall on mine own pike.
Delays ofttimes, from time's secluded parts,
Bring help to helpless not expecting aid;
Some of the gods will pity these my smarts,
Not suffer them to whet the sexton's spade.
Or if the gods—'midst flames then scorpion-like
I'll gore my breast, and fall on mine own pike.
Yet had I suff'red for a courteous one,These woes should ne'er had power t' have raised a sorrow2880But when mine eyes did in my breast enthroneHer—her of whom hell cruelty may borrow.This is the height of woe, death, and diseases,Nay, hell itself to this comparèd pleases.
Yet had I suff'red for a courteous one,
These woes should ne'er had power t' have raised a sorrow
2880But when mine eyes did in my breast enthrone
Her—her of whom hell cruelty may borrow.
This is the height of woe, death, and diseases,
Nay, hell itself to this comparèd pleases.
Yet stay, say Neptune's palace shall be land,And this firm ball of earth a liquid brack;Say the North Pole with Phoebus shall be tanned,And to the South the lilies shall be black.Say this, and more, before thou dare to sayBellama isMàboun'orMà bellà.'
Yet stay, say Neptune's palace shall be land,
And this firm ball of earth a liquid brack;
Say the North Pole with Phoebus shall be tanned,
And to the South the lilies shall be black.
Say this, and more, before thou dare to say
Bellama isMàboun'orMà bellà.'
2890No more of this: we'll for her freedom plot.A pious monk, perceiving well her smart,With diligence assayed to purge each spotWith holy cruse from her diviner part.But still her answer was—nor man, nor lover,Nor she the virgin's ankles did discover.
2890No more of this: we'll for her freedom plot.
A pious monk, perceiving well her smart,
With diligence assayed to purge each spot
With holy cruse from her diviner part.
But still her answer was—nor man, nor lover,
Nor she the virgin's ankles did discover.
'Alas! my brother I am not a male,But a weak sience of the weaker sex.The ladies spake the truth (might truth prevail)But me with torture Piazell' doth vex;2900'Cause, at my entrance, I did promise fair;Yet 't proves court-language, merely, purely, air.
'Alas! my brother I am not a male,
But a weak sience of the weaker sex.
The ladies spake the truth (might truth prevail)
But me with torture Piazell' doth vex;
2900'Cause, at my entrance, I did promise fair;
Yet 't proves court-language, merely, purely, air.
But all this time she would not licence deignThat I three yards behind should leave the gates,And fumèd when I would have left her train,T' have sought a jewel, and to gather dates.So that the Duke my father ne'er had kenOf my encloist'ring in this hate-light den.
But all this time she would not licence deign
That I three yards behind should leave the gates,
And fumèd when I would have left her train,
T' have sought a jewel, and to gather dates.
So that the Duke my father ne'er had ken
Of my encloist'ring in this hate-light den.
But, 'gainst it now resolving, I intendTo turn the stream of his munificence2910On you, dear brother, if you'll be my friend,And plot how I may be delivered hence.Lend your endeavours: and I'll lend my wit,Vow faithfulness, and I will warrant it.
But, 'gainst it now resolving, I intend
To turn the stream of his munificence
2910On you, dear brother, if you'll be my friend,
And plot how I may be delivered hence.
Lend your endeavours: and I'll lend my wit,
Vow faithfulness, and I will warrant it.
I'll woo my father for his free assent,If to your barren cowl you'll bid farewell,That Hymen's rites may perfect our content,By joyful echoes of the marriage bell.'Cause you in person do resemble himWhom 'mongst all men I only judgèd trim.'
I'll woo my father for his free assent,
If to your barren cowl you'll bid farewell,
That Hymen's rites may perfect our content,
By joyful echoes of the marriage bell.
'Cause you in person do resemble him
Whom 'mongst all men I only judgèd trim.'
2920The monk gave ear unto her winning prateAnd gazèd on her beauty masculine,Whose feature might delude a wiser pate,Assisted only by a tallow-shine.(For by an unctious salve she kept her chinFrom the hair-mantle of an agèd skin.)
2920The monk gave ear unto her winning prate
And gazèd on her beauty masculine,
Whose feature might delude a wiser pate,
Assisted only by a tallow-shine.
(For by an unctious salve she kept her chin
From the hair-mantle of an agèd skin.)
'Madam', says he, 'I judge your language true,And to your vows I dare my credence lace:Your virgin-blushes innocence do show,And modesty is printed on your face.2930Faith, truth, and honesty reside with me:My best endeavours shall your servants be.'
'Madam', says he, 'I judge your language true,
And to your vows I dare my credence lace:
Your virgin-blushes innocence do show,
And modesty is printed on your face.
2930Faith, truth, and honesty reside with me:
My best endeavours shall your servants be.'
'Well,' says Felice, 'I have now decreed(Since Phoebus has forsook our hemisphere),To sheath my body in your holy weed,Then through the private walk my course will steer.So from your holy walls I'll take my flight,Or by permission, or in silent night.
'Well,' says Felice, 'I have now decreed
(Since Phoebus has forsook our hemisphere),
To sheath my body in your holy weed,
Then through the private walk my course will steer.
So from your holy walls I'll take my flight,
Or by permission, or in silent night.
And when I am arrived at Folco's towers,My father shall your matchless kindness know,2940Who, I am sure, will summon all his powersTo fetch thee from this house of flame and snow:And who with much contentment will not brookSome three days' penance to be made a duke?
And when I am arrived at Folco's towers,
My father shall your matchless kindness know,
2940Who, I am sure, will summon all his powers
To fetch thee from this house of flame and snow:
And who with much contentment will not brook
Some three days' penance to be made a duke?
For, by inheritance, the dukedom's mineWhen death unbody shall my father's soul.Since no heir-male's descended from our line,The Salic law cannot my right control.And, to assure thee that I'm only thine,I swear by all the powers that are divine.'
For, by inheritance, the dukedom's mine
When death unbody shall my father's soul.
Since no heir-male's descended from our line,
The Salic law cannot my right control.
And, to assure thee that I'm only thine,
I swear by all the powers that are divine.'
2950Then did she circle with ensphering armConrado's neck and amorously him lipp'd,Which did the amorist so strongly charmThat he with haste out of his vestments skipped,And bade Felice change: for in good deedHe should full well become her virgin weed.
2950Then did she circle with ensphering arm
Conrado's neck and amorously him lipp'd,
Which did the amorist so strongly charm
That he with haste out of his vestments skipped,
And bade Felice change: for in good deed
He should full well become her virgin weed.
Felice undressed, and dressed, and having madeHerself a monk, put on Conrado's face,And some few minutes with her monkship played,Then gave a farewell to that hated place.2960But ere her quick dispatch could post her thenceHer beauty shot a fire through every sense.
Felice undressed, and dressed, and having made
Herself a monk, put on Conrado's face,
And some few minutes with her monkship played,
Then gave a farewell to that hated place.
2960But ere her quick dispatch could post her thence
Her beauty shot a fire through every sense.
Fear now exiled the confidence he tied,Forced by affection, to Felice's words,Revoked his promise now,—all aid denied;And, with majestic looks and gesture's lordsHis flaming lust dissolved his pious snow,And now his loud desires will have no 'No'.
Fear now exiled the confidence he tied,
Forced by affection, to Felice's words,
Revoked his promise now,—all aid denied;
And, with majestic looks and gesture's lords
His flaming lust dissolved his pious snow,
And now his loud desires will have no 'No'.
But vows to disenclothe her and to breakHer virgin-seal despite of force or smiles,2970Till Folco strove and made his noddle leakSardonic liquor to new-paint the tiles,So hasted out, and to the matron gaveThe iron porter of Conrado's grave.
But vows to disenclothe her and to break
Her virgin-seal despite of force or smiles,
2970Till Folco strove and made his noddle leak
Sardonic liquor to new-paint the tiles,
So hasted out, and to the matron gave
The iron porter of Conrado's grave.
Imping his haste, he threads the vaulted lane,Not wounded by his soles this many a day,Like those which, when arraigned, a pardon gainDare neither at the jail nor gallows stay.And coming to the postern gate he knocked,Which at devotion time was always locked.
Imping his haste, he threads the vaulted lane,
Not wounded by his soles this many a day,
Like those which, when arraigned, a pardon gain
Dare neither at the jail nor gallows stay.
And coming to the postern gate he knocked,
Which at devotion time was always locked.
2980But when the last Amen had silenced prayer,The porter to Albino entrance gave;Who straight was brought unto the judgement chair,Where, furred with state, did sit the abbot grave.Who said, 'Conrade, why was your stay so long?You missed the manna of the evensong.'
2980But when the last Amen had silenced prayer,
The porter to Albino entrance gave;
Who straight was brought unto the judgement chair,
Where, furred with state, did sit the abbot grave.
Who said, 'Conrade, why was your stay so long?
You missed the manna of the evensong.'
Pseudo-Conrado answered him, 'My lord,I found Felice so oppressed with grief,That charity commanded me t'affordBy learning, prayers, and anthems, some relief.2990And truly on my faith I am persuadedA virgin-lady with these weeds is shaded.
Pseudo-Conrado answered him, 'My lord,
I found Felice so oppressed with grief,
That charity commanded me t'afford
By learning, prayers, and anthems, some relief.
2990And truly on my faith I am persuaded
A virgin-lady with these weeds is shaded.
I, moved to pity by her streaming tears,—Her sighing gales, loud threnes, and sad laments,Won by her beauty, and her tender years,Have promised aid, confirmed by your assents,And in all haste will tell her father's graceWhat clouds of woe bemist Felice's face.
I, moved to pity by her streaming tears,—
Her sighing gales, loud threnes, and sad laments,
Won by her beauty, and her tender years,
Have promised aid, confirmed by your assents,
And in all haste will tell her father's grace
What clouds of woe bemist Felice's face.
She promised me when as her freedom's sealed,When she shall re-enjoy the glorious light,3000When the sad sentence of her woe's repealedShe will be mine in spite of envy's might.Nay more, she from the dukedom will extractSome lordships to perform a pious act.'
She promised me when as her freedom's sealed,
When she shall re-enjoy the glorious light,
3000When the sad sentence of her woe's repealed
She will be mine in spite of envy's might.
Nay more, she from the dukedom will extract
Some lordships to perform a pious act.'
Forthwith, a synod of the holy menWas called to broach the wisdom of their pates.The questions were proposed—"Who? What? and When?The 'who', is Folco's daughter; 'what', estates;The 'when', so soon as she, by Folco's powers,Shall shell her body in proud Gurby's towers.
Forthwith, a synod of the holy men
Was called to broach the wisdom of their pates.
The questions were proposed—"Who? What? and When?
The 'who', is Folco's daughter; 'what', estates;
The 'when', so soon as she, by Folco's powers,
Shall shell her body in proud Gurby's towers.
3010This answer smelt of profit, and did gainThe abbot's liking, and his griping crew.Says he, 'Conrado, true content does reignAnd triumph in our thoughts: we yield to you.Success wait on thy voice: for to thy careOur wishes, hopes, desires, entrusted are.'
3010This answer smelt of profit, and did gain
The abbot's liking, and his griping crew.
Says he, 'Conrado, true content does reign
And triumph in our thoughts: we yield to you.
Success wait on thy voice: for to thy care
Our wishes, hopes, desires, entrusted are.'
'Fear not,' quoth he, 'my faith dares warrant all.All things are real as my words are true.Myself will pace unto fair Gurby hall,And with emphatic language plead and sue:3020So that old Folco's lungs shall crack with laughterTo hear me chat the travails of his daughter.
'Fear not,' quoth he, 'my faith dares warrant all.
All things are real as my words are true.
Myself will pace unto fair Gurby hall,
And with emphatic language plead and sue:
3020So that old Folco's lungs shall crack with laughter
To hear me chat the travails of his daughter.
First she, mistrusting that she should be forc'd,By his proud nod, unto a hated pillow,From folly, Folco, folk, herself divorced,To twist, for scornèd maids, some wreaths of willow.How zealously she prayed, and looked demurely!She is, in thought and word, a virgin surely.
First she, mistrusting that she should be forc'd,
By his proud nod, unto a hated pillow,
From folly, Folco, folk, herself divorced,
To twist, for scornèd maids, some wreaths of willow.
How zealously she prayed, and looked demurely!
She is, in thought and word, a virgin surely.
But the conceit is this—Who bridles laughter,That virgins holy, pure, and nuns to boot,3030Should thicken with the pills of Folco's daughter,Sing lullabies, and to Lucina hoot?T' increase the wonder then, and imp his pleasures,To Folco I'll present these waggish measures.'
But the conceit is this—Who bridles laughter,
That virgins holy, pure, and nuns to boot,
3030Should thicken with the pills of Folco's daughter,
Sing lullabies, and to Lucina hoot?
T' increase the wonder then, and imp his pleasures,
To Folco I'll present these waggish measures.'
Behold, admire, and some contentment gatherFrom nuns that teem, manned by a virgin-father.
Behold, admire, and some contentment gather
From nuns that teem, manned by a virgin-father.
Wonder and admiration cease to gazeOn flashing meteors, stars, and comets' blaze.Let not Vitruvius or th' Ichonian beast,Putzol or Etna slide into your breast.3040Ope not your ears unto those cracks of thunder,Whose cannon-echoes split the orbs in sunder.Lend not your audience to those fond reportsOf Ob'ron, Mabell, and their fairy sports,Nor tie your credence to the poet's penWhich writes the noble acts of warlike men,Of monsters, mooncalves, merry games, and masks,Atlas' stiff shoulders, and Alcides' tasks.Amazement flies these babbles, and does pinFaith, eyes, and thoughts, unto this curtain-sin;3050That a pure virgin should unvirgin others,And, though a virgin, yet make many mothers;Make them heave up, be qualmish, pale, and cry'A midwife (ho!) a midwife: else we die.'It is an Afric crow, a sable swan,To have a vestal puffèd up with man:But that so many nuns unmaidened areB' a nun without a man is more than rare.The Sybil's virgin is not worth a rush,And Merlin's mother may with envy blush.3060These, though they soared above the pitch of reason,Yet crossed not nature's order, course, or season.For women teemed as women, but a womanAs man, makes virgins teem, and yet is no man.This—this is object unto fame and wonder,Then make each clime with thisMirandumthunder.
Wonder and admiration cease to gaze
On flashing meteors, stars, and comets' blaze.
Let not Vitruvius or th' Ichonian beast,
Putzol or Etna slide into your breast.
3040Ope not your ears unto those cracks of thunder,
Whose cannon-echoes split the orbs in sunder.
Lend not your audience to those fond reports
Of Ob'ron, Mabell, and their fairy sports,
Nor tie your credence to the poet's pen
Which writes the noble acts of warlike men,
Of monsters, mooncalves, merry games, and masks,
Atlas' stiff shoulders, and Alcides' tasks.
Amazement flies these babbles, and does pin
Faith, eyes, and thoughts, unto this curtain-sin;
3050That a pure virgin should unvirgin others,
And, though a virgin, yet make many mothers;
Make them heave up, be qualmish, pale, and cry
'A midwife (ho!) a midwife: else we die.'
It is an Afric crow, a sable swan,
To have a vestal puffèd up with man:
But that so many nuns unmaidened are
B' a nun without a man is more than rare.
The Sybil's virgin is not worth a rush,
And Merlin's mother may with envy blush.
3060These, though they soared above the pitch of reason,
Yet crossed not nature's order, course, or season.
For women teemed as women, but a woman
As man, makes virgins teem, and yet is no man.
This—this is object unto fame and wonder,
Then make each clime with thisMirandumthunder.
About this time night summoned them to rest,And each repairèd to his sturdy bed.Albino's fears his hopes and joys suppressed;But, in the rest, content struck sorrow dead.3070They slept until the bright enlight'ned air,With silver glitter, called them up to prayer.
About this time night summoned them to rest,
And each repairèd to his sturdy bed.
Albino's fears his hopes and joys suppressed;
But, in the rest, content struck sorrow dead.
3070They slept until the bright enlight'ned air,
With silver glitter, called them up to prayer.
But our Albin' took earlier leave of sleep,And sheathed his body in his monkish vests;Knocked at his lodge, which did the entrance keep,Who that he could not wake himself protests:'Thou art some fury, hag, or Hob I trow,That boldly at my lodge dost thunder so.'
But our Albin' took earlier leave of sleep,
And sheathed his body in his monkish vests;
Knocked at his lodge, which did the entrance keep,
Who that he could not wake himself protests:
'Thou art some fury, hag, or Hob I trow,
That boldly at my lodge dost thunder so.'
Albino says, 'What frenzy damps thy reason?Arise, my haste commands a frequent rap.'3080'Begone,' quoth he, 'entreats are out of season.Worshipful Hob, I'll have another nap.'Tis not mine hour to rise until I hearThe clapper sound asurgein mine ear.'
Albino says, 'What frenzy damps thy reason?
Arise, my haste commands a frequent rap.'
3080'Begone,' quoth he, 'entreats are out of season.
Worshipful Hob, I'll have another nap.
'Tis not mine hour to rise until I hear
The clapper sound asurgein mine ear.'
When our young monk had many minutes spent,And could not Foppo from his pillow rear,About that time light's charioteer had sentDay's trusty harbinger his orb to clear.He searched the walls, and trafficked with the lock;But all in vain, he must implore the frock.
When our young monk had many minutes spent,
And could not Foppo from his pillow rear,
About that time light's charioteer had sent
Day's trusty harbinger his orb to clear.
He searched the walls, and trafficked with the lock;
But all in vain, he must implore the frock.
3090The chapel-clerk, as constant to his hourAs is day's herald which at breaking crows,Seeing Aurora did his windows scourAnd leapt into his chamber, straight arose:Making the shrill-toned bell in echoes speak,'Awake and rise to prayer, the day does break.'
3090The chapel-clerk, as constant to his hour
As is day's herald which at breaking crows,
Seeing Aurora did his windows scour
And leapt into his chamber, straight arose:
Making the shrill-toned bell in echoes speak,
'Awake and rise to prayer, the day does break.'
Foppo was at that time in Morpheus' court,Where he with apparitions was affrighted;The scene was changed, then came a dainty sport,Whose sudden neatness every sense delighted;3100Then dreamt Albine, their renegado monkWas knocking at his lodge, the otherNunc.
Foppo was at that time in Morpheus' court,
Where he with apparitions was affrighted;
The scene was changed, then came a dainty sport,
Whose sudden neatness every sense delighted;
3100Then dreamt Albine, their renegado monk
Was knocking at his lodge, the otherNunc.
Then dreamt he saw a table richly spreadWith all the dainties riot ever felt;All birds of warrant which in woods are bred,With salmon, mullet, turbot, trout, and smelt:The princely-pacing deer, entombed in paste,Embalmed with spices to delight the taste.
Then dreamt he saw a table richly spread
With all the dainties riot ever felt;
All birds of warrant which in woods are bred,
With salmon, mullet, turbot, trout, and smelt:
The princely-pacing deer, entombed in paste,
Embalmed with spices to delight the taste.
A sparkling wine, drawn newly from the cheekOf some chaste fair which blushes coloured red,3110With brisk canary and enlivening Greek,Poetic sherry which can sharpen lead—This ravish'd Foppo with a taste content,Till to his ear the bell an errand sent.
A sparkling wine, drawn newly from the cheek
Of some chaste fair which blushes coloured red,
3110With brisk canary and enlivening Greek,
Poetic sherry which can sharpen lead—
This ravish'd Foppo with a taste content,
Till to his ear the bell an errand sent.
When, starting up, he deemed the bell did callHis able stomach to a founder's feast,And with all speed was swogging to the hall,But that Albino stayed him by the crest,And lew-warm claret from his hogshead drewTo make his stomach give the deer adieu.
When, starting up, he deemed the bell did call
His able stomach to a founder's feast,
And with all speed was swogging to the hall,
But that Albino stayed him by the crest,
And lew-warm claret from his hogshead drew
To make his stomach give the deer adieu.
3120Quoth he, 'Thou son of Somnus, drowsy slave!Why didst thou not at my loud summons rise?But in a fit of lunacy did raveAs though thy wit had ta'en some new disguise?I'll be your Hob, your hag: and, though I'm loath,Will now chastise thee for thy feignèd sloth.'
3120Quoth he, 'Thou son of Somnus, drowsy slave!
Why didst thou not at my loud summons rise?
But in a fit of lunacy did rave
As though thy wit had ta'en some new disguise?
I'll be your Hob, your hag: and, though I'm loath,
Will now chastise thee for thy feignèd sloth.'
But whilst his passion took a breathing space,The wak'ned porter from his fists did creep,Fixèd his goggles on his youthful face,And then rememb'red his prophetic sleep.3130Tells him he's not Conrado; for he knowsThat brow, those cheeks, lips, eyes, Albino owes.
But whilst his passion took a breathing space,
The wak'ned porter from his fists did creep,
Fixèd his goggles on his youthful face,
And then rememb'red his prophetic sleep.
3130Tells him he's not Conrado; for he knows
That brow, those cheeks, lips, eyes, Albino owes.
'And though your wrath should grind me unto powder,Without a warrant, I will ope no gate.'This answer made Albino's anger louder,And vowed a passage, bought at any rate.So leapt upon the slave with nimble strength,And measured on the earth his ugly length.
'And though your wrath should grind me unto powder,
Without a warrant, I will ope no gate.'
This answer made Albino's anger louder,
And vowed a passage, bought at any rate.
So leapt upon the slave with nimble strength,
And measured on the earth his ugly length.
Albino hastes to th' postern; having gotThe keys, but 'mongst so many much was puzzled3140To find the right; Foppo meanwhile did trotUnto some chambers where the shavelings nuzzled,And them with outcries raisèd to surpriseAlbino, larvèd in Conrado's guise.
Albino hastes to th' postern; having got
The keys, but 'mongst so many much was puzzled
3140To find the right; Foppo meanwhile did trot
Unto some chambers where the shavelings nuzzled,
And them with outcries raisèd to surprise
Albino, larvèd in Conrado's guise.
Like penancers with linen on their backs,The baldpates ran to seize upon their prey;But yet their haste a semi-moment lacks:Albino through the gate had found a way.And, snatching out the keys, did them encage,Raising a bulwark to withstand their rage.
Like penancers with linen on their backs,
The baldpates ran to seize upon their prey;
But yet their haste a semi-moment lacks:
Albino through the gate had found a way.
And, snatching out the keys, did them encage,
Raising a bulwark to withstand their rage.
3150Then thanked his stars that thus delivered himFrom dangers which did threaten naught but death.For he by th' verge ofMare mortdid swim,And did expect his latest gale to breath.Nay, these late troubles had him so disheartedThat every shadow 'lmost the union parted.
3150Then thanked his stars that thus delivered him
From dangers which did threaten naught but death.
For he by th' verge ofMare mortdid swim,
And did expect his latest gale to breath.
Nay, these late troubles had him so dishearted
That every shadow 'lmost the union parted.
You, whose disasters some proportion hold,Help my weak fancy to express his fears;Teach me my rhymes in cypress to enfold,From thwarted lovers borrow me some tears;3160Fetch me some groans from the ascending thief;And from the Inquisition fetch me grief.
You, whose disasters some proportion hold,
Help my weak fancy to express his fears;
Teach me my rhymes in cypress to enfold,
From thwarted lovers borrow me some tears;
3160Fetch me some groans from the ascending thief;
And from the Inquisition fetch me grief.
Without demurs, Albino left the wicket,Fearing the monks should bribe the faithless lock,And steered his course unto a well-grown thicket,Whose lofty hill was armed with many a rock.He envies sculls that wait on spit and oven,And vows ne'er more to see that hated coven.
Without demurs, Albino left the wicket,
Fearing the monks should bribe the faithless lock,
And steered his course unto a well-grown thicket,
Whose lofty hill was armed with many a rock.
He envies sculls that wait on spit and oven,
And vows ne'er more to see that hated coven.
Have you beheld the stately-pacing stag,Flying the echoes of some deep-mouthed hounds?3170How first his brow does wear a ferny flag,And with curvettings beats the quaking ground;Telling the fawns and wood-nymphs that he scornsThe hounds, horse, huntsmen, and their warbling horns.
Have you beheld the stately-pacing stag,
Flying the echoes of some deep-mouthed hounds?
3170How first his brow does wear a ferny flag,
And with curvettings beats the quaking ground;
Telling the fawns and wood-nymphs that he scorns
The hounds, horse, huntsmen, and their warbling horns.
But when he is embossed in blood and sweat,When travail on his swiftness fetters hangs,He then is frighted with the shrill recheat,And fears a pinking with the yellers' fangs.Seeks ev'rywhere for shelter, and dares rushMalèd with fear, into the sharpest bush.
But when he is embossed in blood and sweat,
When travail on his swiftness fetters hangs,
He then is frighted with the shrill recheat,
And fears a pinking with the yellers' fangs.
Seeks ev'rywhere for shelter, and dares rush
Malèd with fear, into the sharpest bush.
3180So fared it with Albino: whilst he hadFate at a beck, commanded Fortune's wheel,Was callèd by his Donnes, active lad,He thought his joys were wallèd in with steel,Slighted misfortune, envy set at naught,And, braving malice, dared in every thought.
3180So fared it with Albino: whilst he had
Fate at a beck, commanded Fortune's wheel,
Was callèd by his Donnes, active lad,
He thought his joys were wallèd in with steel,
Slighted misfortune, envy set at naught,
And, braving malice, dared in every thought.
But when his tow'ring heart was taught to knowHumiliation, and self-confidenceWas strucken dead with famine, flame, and snow;Although his genial stars had freed him thence,3190He fears the monkish rabble, and he shroudsHimself in caves, encurtained round with clouds.
But when his tow'ring heart was taught to know
Humiliation, and self-confidence
Was strucken dead with famine, flame, and snow;
Although his genial stars had freed him thence,
3190He fears the monkish rabble, and he shrouds
Himself in caves, encurtained round with clouds.
In his dark house he heard a feeble voice,Breathed from the corals of some weak'ned maid.At first concealment was his better choice,Till pity set an edge upon his blade.Then guided by the cry, he saw a roisterDid in his arms perforce a nymph encloister.
In his dark house he heard a feeble voice,
Breathed from the corals of some weak'ned maid.
At first concealment was his better choice,
Till pity set an edge upon his blade.
Then guided by the cry, he saw a roister
Did in his arms perforce a nymph encloister.
Yet, seeing home-spun russet, stopped his pace;Saying, 'By this what honour shall I gain?'3200But in his eye so curious was her face,Though masked and blubbered o'er with brackish rain,That he forthwith unsheathed his trusty Turk,Called forth that blood which in his veins did lurk.
Yet, seeing home-spun russet, stopped his pace;
Saying, 'By this what honour shall I gain?'
3200But in his eye so curious was her face,
Though masked and blubbered o'er with brackish rain,
That he forthwith unsheathed his trusty Turk,
Called forth that blood which in his veins did lurk.
So, stepping forward, cries, 'Injurious slave,Unto what baseness does thy folly tempt her?'Who answered him, 'Fond fool, thy foolish braveFrom my decreèd end shall not exempt her.Befriend me, Queen of Cyprus! and in spiteOf force or fortune, I'll have my delight.'
So, stepping forward, cries, 'Injurious slave,
Unto what baseness does thy folly tempt her?'
Who answered him, 'Fond fool, thy foolish brave
From my decreèd end shall not exempt her.
Befriend me, Queen of Cyprus! and in spite
Of force or fortune, I'll have my delight.'
3210'Desist,' Albino says, 'or else I vow,By all those tapers which enrich the night,I'll make pale death strew cypress on thy brow.And to th' infernal shades thy soul will fright.Cease from thy brutish rape, or else prepareThy cursed lungs to draw the Stygian air.'
3210'Desist,' Albino says, 'or else I vow,
By all those tapers which enrich the night,
I'll make pale death strew cypress on thy brow.
And to th' infernal shades thy soul will fright.
Cease from thy brutish rape, or else prepare
Thy cursed lungs to draw the Stygian air.'
Quoth the rude Sylvan, 'I am past that ageWhich with bugbears the foppish nurse does fright.Hence, curtain-squire, smock-groom, and urine-page!I'll have no testates unto my delight.3220Pack hence with speed, or by Actaeon's head,My weighty falchion shall pronounce thee dead.'
Quoth the rude Sylvan, 'I am past that age
Which with bugbears the foppish nurse does fright.
Hence, curtain-squire, smock-groom, and urine-page!
I'll have no testates unto my delight.
3220Pack hence with speed, or by Actaeon's head,
My weighty falchion shall pronounce thee dead.'
'Well,' says Albino, 'since thou'lt not desist,Prove the adventures of a bloody duel.One of our threads fell Atrop's shall untwist,For to my rage kind pity lendeth fuel.To free a virgin from thy gripping pawsI judge well pleasing unto nature's laws.'
'Well,' says Albino, 'since thou'lt not desist,
Prove the adventures of a bloody duel.
One of our threads fell Atrop's shall untwist,
For to my rage kind pity lendeth fuel.
To free a virgin from thy gripping paws
I judge well pleasing unto nature's laws.'
They clasp'd their helms, and buckled to their fight,'Twixt whom no umpire was but meagre death.3230The woodwards green with Tyrian dye was dightWho now desires a minute's space to breath.Albino gave the truce, yet but to breath;His valour scorned to crowd into the sheath.
They clasp'd their helms, and buckled to their fight,
'Twixt whom no umpire was but meagre death.
3230The woodwards green with Tyrian dye was dight
Who now desires a minute's space to breath.
Albino gave the truce, yet but to breath;
His valour scorned to crowd into the sheath.
Then did his nimble sleight and courage show,Feigning a stroke, but pointed at his breast,Which oped a door whereat his spirits flew,And wellnigh set his fainting soul at rest.With that th' enfeebled Sylvan weakly cries'Hold, hold thy hand! or else Sylvanus dies.'
Then did his nimble sleight and courage show,
Feigning a stroke, but pointed at his breast,
Which oped a door whereat his spirits flew,
And wellnigh set his fainting soul at rest.
With that th' enfeebled Sylvan weakly cries
'Hold, hold thy hand! or else Sylvanus dies.'
3240'Dost call for mercy,' says Albino, 'now?And all thy thoughts erstwhile triumphant rid?I seek not murder, may I save my vow.That I should joy in blood my stars forbid.I am content the virgin's voice shall sealThy death, or pardon, if thou make appeal.'
3240'Dost call for mercy,' says Albino, 'now?
And all thy thoughts erstwhile triumphant rid?
I seek not murder, may I save my vow.
That I should joy in blood my stars forbid.
I am content the virgin's voice shall seal
Thy death, or pardon, if thou make appeal.'
'Fair virgin,' quoth Sylvanus, 'pity isThe only grace that gives a virgin price.Remission crowns a heart with greater bliss,Than to hang iron on weak nature's vice.3250The rays of your bright beauty urged desire;Your feature kindled lust, love blowed the fire.'
'Fair virgin,' quoth Sylvanus, 'pity is
The only grace that gives a virgin price.
Remission crowns a heart with greater bliss,
Than to hang iron on weak nature's vice.
3250The rays of your bright beauty urged desire;
Your feature kindled lust, love blowed the fire.'
The virgin answered, 'I did never suckThe tiger's dugs, the lioness, and bear,Nor from a reeking breast an heart did pluck.Never will I in blood with vulture's share.But, since submission speaks from voice and knee,Kind pity thins the fault, and pardons thee.'
The virgin answered, 'I did never suck
The tiger's dugs, the lioness, and bear,
Nor from a reeking breast an heart did pluck.
Never will I in blood with vulture's share.
But, since submission speaks from voice and knee,
Kind pity thins the fault, and pardons thee.'