FOOTNOTES:

FOOTNOTES:[364]Not in Isham copy or ed. A.[365]Old eds. "least." ("Nec custodiri, ni velit, ulla potest.")[366]The original has "Nescio quid, quod te ceperit, esse putant."[367]Dyce calls this line an "erroneous version of 'Non proba sit quam vir servat, sed adultera; cara est.'" But Merkel's reading is "Non proba fit quam vir servat, sed adultera cara"—which is accurately rendered by Marlowe.

[364]Not in Isham copy or ed. A.

[365]Old eds. "least." ("Nec custodiri, ni velit, ulla potest.")

[366]The original has "Nescio quid, quod te ceperit, esse putant."

[367]Dyce calls this line an "erroneous version of 'Non proba sit quam vir servat, sed adultera; cara est.'" But Merkel's reading is "Non proba fit quam vir servat, sed adultera cara"—which is accurately rendered by Marlowe.

Ad amnem dum iter faceret ad amicam.

Flood with reed-grown[369]slime banks, till I be pastThy waters stay: I to my mistress haste.Thou hast no bridge, nor boat with ropes to throw,That may transport me, without oars to row.Thee I have passed, and knew thy stream none such,When thy wave's brim did scarce my ankles touch.With snow thawed from the next hill now thou gushest,[370]And in thy foul deep waters thick thou rushest.What helps my haste? what to have ta'en small rest?What day and night to travel in her quest?10If standing here I can by no means getMy foot upon the further bank to set.Now wish I those wings noble Perseus had,Bearing the head with dreadful adders[371]clad;Now wish the chariot, whence corn fields were found,First to be thrown upon the untilled ground:I speak old poet's wonderful inventions,Ne'er was, nor [e'er] shall be, what my verse mentions.Rather, thou large bank-overflowing river,Slide in thy bounds; so shalt thou run for ever.20Trust me, land-stream, thou shalt no envy lack,If I a lover be by thee held back.Great floods ought to assist young men in love,Great floods the force of it do often prove.In mid Bithynia,[372]'tis said, InachusGrew pale, and, in cold fords, hot lecherous.Troy had not yet been ten years' siege out stander,When nymph Neæra rapt thy looks, Scamander.What, not Alpheus in strange lands to run,The Arcadian virgin's constant love hath won?30And Creusa unto Xanthus first affied,They say Peneus near Phthia's town did hide.What should I name Asop,[373]that Thebe loved,Thebe who mother of five daughters proved,If, Achelöus, I ask where thy horns stand,Thou say'st, broke with Alcides' angry hand.Not Calydon, nor Ætolia did please;One Deianira was more worth than these.Rich Nile by seven mouths to the vast sea flowing,Who so well keeps his water's head from knowing,40Is by Evadne thought to take such flame,As his deep whirlpools could not quench the same.Dry Enipeus, Tyro to embrace,Fly back his stream[374]charged; the stream charged, gave place.Nor pass I thee, who hollow rocks down tumbling,In Tibur's field with watery foam art rumbling.Whom Ilia pleased, though in her looks grief revelled,Her cheeks were scratched, her goodly hairs dishevelled.She, wailing Mar's sin and her uncle's crime,Strayed barefoot through sole places[375]on a time.50Her, from his swift waves, the bold flood perceived,And from the mid ford his hoarse voice upheaved,Saying, "Why sadly tread'st my banks upon,Ilia sprung from Idæan Laomedon?Where's thy attire? why wanderest here alone?To stay thy tresses white veil hast thou none?Why weep'st and spoil'st with tears thy watery eyes?And fiercely knock'st thy breast that open lies?His heart consists of flint and hardest steel,That seeing thy tears can any joy then feel.60Fear not: to thee our court stands open wide,There shalt be loved: Ilia, lay fear aside.Thou o'er a hundred nymphs or more shalt reign,For five score nymphs or more our floods contain.Nor, Roman stock, scorn me so much I crave,Gifts than my promise greater thou shalt have."[376]This said he: she her modest eyes held down.Her woful bosom a warm shower did drown.Thrice she prepared to fly, thrice she did stay,By fear deprived of strength to run away.70Yet rending with enragèd thumb her tresses,Her trembling mouth these unmeet sounds expresses:"O would in my forefathers' tomb deep laid,My bones had been while yet I was a maid:Why being a vestal am I wooed to wed,Deflowered and stainèd in unlawful bed.Why stay I? men point at me for a whore,Shame, that should make me blush, I have no more."This said; her coat hoodwinked her fearful eyes,And into water desperately she flies.80'Tis said the slippery stream held up her breast,And kindly gave her what she likèd best.And I believe some wench thou hast affected,But woods and groves keep your faults undetected.While thus I speak the waters more abounded,And from the channel all abroad surrounded.Mad stream, why dost our mutual joys defer?Clown, from my journey why dost me deter?How would'st thou flow wert thou a noble flood?If thy great fame in every region stood?90Thou hast no name, but com'st from snowy mountains;No certain house thou hast, nor any fountains;Thy springs are nought but rain and melted snow,Which wealth cold winter doth on thee bestow.Either thou art muddy in mid-winter tide,Or full of dust dost on the dry earth slide.What thirsty traveller ever drunk of thee?Who said with grateful voice, "Perpetual be!"Harmful to beasts, and to the fields thou proves,Perchance these[377]others, me mine own loss moves.100To this I fondly[378]loves of floods told plainly,I shame so great names to have used so vainly.I know not what expecting, I ere while,Named Achelöus, Inachus, and Nile.[379]But for thy merits I wish thee, white stream,[380]Dry winters aye, and suns in heat extreme.

Flood with reed-grown[369]slime banks, till I be past

Thy waters stay: I to my mistress haste.

Thou hast no bridge, nor boat with ropes to throw,

That may transport me, without oars to row.

Thee I have passed, and knew thy stream none such,

When thy wave's brim did scarce my ankles touch.

With snow thawed from the next hill now thou gushest,[370]

And in thy foul deep waters thick thou rushest.

What helps my haste? what to have ta'en small rest?

What day and night to travel in her quest?10

If standing here I can by no means get

My foot upon the further bank to set.

Now wish I those wings noble Perseus had,

Bearing the head with dreadful adders[371]clad;

Now wish the chariot, whence corn fields were found,

First to be thrown upon the untilled ground:

I speak old poet's wonderful inventions,

Ne'er was, nor [e'er] shall be, what my verse mentions.

Rather, thou large bank-overflowing river,

Slide in thy bounds; so shalt thou run for ever.20

Trust me, land-stream, thou shalt no envy lack,

If I a lover be by thee held back.

Great floods ought to assist young men in love,

Great floods the force of it do often prove.

In mid Bithynia,[372]'tis said, Inachus

Grew pale, and, in cold fords, hot lecherous.

Troy had not yet been ten years' siege out stander,

When nymph Neæra rapt thy looks, Scamander.

What, not Alpheus in strange lands to run,

The Arcadian virgin's constant love hath won?30

And Creusa unto Xanthus first affied,

They say Peneus near Phthia's town did hide.

What should I name Asop,[373]that Thebe loved,

Thebe who mother of five daughters proved,

If, Achelöus, I ask where thy horns stand,

Thou say'st, broke with Alcides' angry hand.

Not Calydon, nor Ætolia did please;

One Deianira was more worth than these.

Rich Nile by seven mouths to the vast sea flowing,

Who so well keeps his water's head from knowing,40

Is by Evadne thought to take such flame,

As his deep whirlpools could not quench the same.

Dry Enipeus, Tyro to embrace,

Fly back his stream[374]charged; the stream charged, gave place.

Nor pass I thee, who hollow rocks down tumbling,

In Tibur's field with watery foam art rumbling.

Whom Ilia pleased, though in her looks grief revelled,

Her cheeks were scratched, her goodly hairs dishevelled.

She, wailing Mar's sin and her uncle's crime,

Strayed barefoot through sole places[375]on a time.50

Her, from his swift waves, the bold flood perceived,

And from the mid ford his hoarse voice upheaved,

Saying, "Why sadly tread'st my banks upon,

Ilia sprung from Idæan Laomedon?

Where's thy attire? why wanderest here alone?

To stay thy tresses white veil hast thou none?

Why weep'st and spoil'st with tears thy watery eyes?

And fiercely knock'st thy breast that open lies?

His heart consists of flint and hardest steel,

That seeing thy tears can any joy then feel.60

Fear not: to thee our court stands open wide,

There shalt be loved: Ilia, lay fear aside.

Thou o'er a hundred nymphs or more shalt reign,

For five score nymphs or more our floods contain.

Nor, Roman stock, scorn me so much I crave,

Gifts than my promise greater thou shalt have."[376]

This said he: she her modest eyes held down.

Her woful bosom a warm shower did drown.

Thrice she prepared to fly, thrice she did stay,

By fear deprived of strength to run away.70

Yet rending with enragèd thumb her tresses,

Her trembling mouth these unmeet sounds expresses:

"O would in my forefathers' tomb deep laid,

My bones had been while yet I was a maid:

Why being a vestal am I wooed to wed,

Deflowered and stainèd in unlawful bed.

Why stay I? men point at me for a whore,

Shame, that should make me blush, I have no more."

This said; her coat hoodwinked her fearful eyes,

And into water desperately she flies.80

'Tis said the slippery stream held up her breast,

And kindly gave her what she likèd best.

And I believe some wench thou hast affected,

But woods and groves keep your faults undetected.

While thus I speak the waters more abounded,

And from the channel all abroad surrounded.

Mad stream, why dost our mutual joys defer?

Clown, from my journey why dost me deter?

How would'st thou flow wert thou a noble flood?

If thy great fame in every region stood?90

Thou hast no name, but com'st from snowy mountains;

No certain house thou hast, nor any fountains;

Thy springs are nought but rain and melted snow,

Which wealth cold winter doth on thee bestow.

Either thou art muddy in mid-winter tide,

Or full of dust dost on the dry earth slide.

What thirsty traveller ever drunk of thee?

Who said with grateful voice, "Perpetual be!"

Harmful to beasts, and to the fields thou proves,

Perchance these[377]others, me mine own loss moves.100

To this I fondly[378]loves of floods told plainly,

I shame so great names to have used so vainly.

I know not what expecting, I ere while,

Named Achelöus, Inachus, and Nile.[379]

But for thy merits I wish thee, white stream,[380]

Dry winters aye, and suns in heat extreme.

FOOTNOTES:[368]Not in Isham copy or ed. A.—In the old copies this elegy is marked "Elegia v." The fifth elegy (beginning "Nox erat et somnus," &c.) was not contained in Marlowe's copy.[369]Old eds. "redde-growne."[370]So Dyce for "rushest" of the old eds.[371]So Dyce for "arrowes" of the old eds.[372]The original has "Inachus in Melie Bithynide pallidus isse." &c.—Dyce suggests that Marlowe's copy had "inmediaBithynide."[373]Old eds. "Aesope."[374]Old eds. "shame."[375]"Loca sola."[376]The original has "Desit famosus qui notet ora pudor" (or "Desint ... quae," &c.)[377]"Forsitan haec alios, me mea damna movent."[378]"Demens."[379]Old eds. "Ile."[380]Marlowe read "nunc candide" for "non candide."

[368]Not in Isham copy or ed. A.—In the old copies this elegy is marked "Elegia v." The fifth elegy (beginning "Nox erat et somnus," &c.) was not contained in Marlowe's copy.

[369]Old eds. "redde-growne."

[370]So Dyce for "rushest" of the old eds.

[371]So Dyce for "arrowes" of the old eds.

[372]The original has "Inachus in Melie Bithynide pallidus isse." &c.—Dyce suggests that Marlowe's copy had "inmediaBithynide."

[373]Old eds. "Aesope."

[374]Old eds. "shame."

[375]"Loca sola."

[376]The original has "Desit famosus qui notet ora pudor" (or "Desint ... quae," &c.)

[377]"Forsitan haec alios, me mea damna movent."

[378]"Demens."

[379]Old eds. "Ile."

[380]Marlowe read "nunc candide" for "non candide."

Quod ab amica receptus, cum ea coire non potuit, conqueritur.

Either she was foul, or her attire was bad,Or she was not the wench I wished to have had.Idly I lay with her, as if I loved not,And like a burden grieved the bed that moved not.Though both of us performed our true intent,Yet could I not cast anchor where I meant.She on my neck her ivory arms did throw,Her[381]arms far whiter than the Scythian snow.And eagerly she kissed me with her tongue,And under mine her wanton thigh she flung,10Yea, and she soothed me up, and called me "Sir,"[382]And used all speech that might provoke and stir.Yet like as if cold hemlock I had drunk,It mockèd me, hung down the head and sunk.Like a dull cipher, or rude block I lay,Or shade, or body was I, who can say?What will my age do, age I cannot shun,Seeing[383]in my prime my force is spent and done?I blush, that being youthful, hot, and lusty,I prove neither youth nor man, but old and rusty.20Pure rose she, like a nun to sacrifice,Or one that with her tender brother lies.Yet boarded I the golden Chie[384]twice,And Libas, and the white-cheeked Pitho thrice.Corinna craved it in a summer's night,And nine sweet bouts had we[385]before daylight.What, waste my limbs through some Thessalian charms?May spells and drugs do silly souls such harms?With virgin wax hath some imbast[386]my joints?And pierced my liver with sharp needle-points?[387]30Charms change corn to grass and make it die:By charms are running springs and fountains dry.By charms mast drops from oaks, from vines grapes fall,And fruit from trees when there's no wind at all.Why might not then my sinews be enchanted?And I grow faint as with some spirit haunted?To this, add shame: shame to perform it quailed me,And was the second cause why vigour failed me.My idle thoughts delighted her no more,Than did the robe or garment which she wore.40Yet might her touch make youthful Pylius fire,And Tithon livelier than his years require.Even her I had, and she had me in vain,What might I crave more, if I ask again?I think the great gods grieved they had bestowed,This[388]benefit: which lewdly[389]I foreslowed.[390]I wished to be received in, in[391]I get me.To kiss, I kiss;[392]to lie with her, she let me.Why was I blest? why made king to refuse[393]it?Chuff-like had I not gold and could not use it?50So in a spring thrives he that told so much,[394]And looks upon the fruits he cannot touch.Hath any rose so from a fresh young maid,As she might straight have gone to church and prayed?Well, I believe, she kissed not as she should,Nor used the sleight and[395]cunning which she could.Huge oaks, hard adamants might she have moved,And with sweet words caus[ed] deaf rocks to have loved.Worthy she was to move both gods and men,But neither was I man nor livèd then.60Can deaf ears[396]take delight when Phæmius sings?Or Thamyris in curious painted things?What sweet thought is there but I had the same?And one gave place still as another came.Yet notwithstanding, like one dead it lay,Drooping more than a rose pulled yesterday.Now, when he should not jet, he bolts upright,And craves his task, and seeks to be at fight.Lie down with shame, and see thou stir no more.Seeing thou[397]would'st deceive me as before.70Thou cozenest me: by thee surprised am I,And bide sore loss[398]with endless infamy.Nay more, the wench did not disdain a whitTo take it in her hand, and play with it.But when she saw it would by no means stand,But still drooped down, regarding not her hand,"Why mock'st thou me," she cried, "or being ill,Who bade thee lie down here against thy will?Either thou art witched with blood of frogs[399]new dead,Or jaded cam'st thou from some other's bed."80With that, her loose gown on, from me she cast her;In skipping out her naked feet much graced her.And lest her maid should know of this disgrace,To cover it, spilt water in the place.

Either she was foul, or her attire was bad,

Or she was not the wench I wished to have had.

Idly I lay with her, as if I loved not,

And like a burden grieved the bed that moved not.

Though both of us performed our true intent,

Yet could I not cast anchor where I meant.

She on my neck her ivory arms did throw,

Her[381]arms far whiter than the Scythian snow.

And eagerly she kissed me with her tongue,

And under mine her wanton thigh she flung,10

Yea, and she soothed me up, and called me "Sir,"[382]

And used all speech that might provoke and stir.

Yet like as if cold hemlock I had drunk,

It mockèd me, hung down the head and sunk.

Like a dull cipher, or rude block I lay,

Or shade, or body was I, who can say?

What will my age do, age I cannot shun,

Seeing[383]in my prime my force is spent and done?

I blush, that being youthful, hot, and lusty,

I prove neither youth nor man, but old and rusty.20

Pure rose she, like a nun to sacrifice,

Or one that with her tender brother lies.

Yet boarded I the golden Chie[384]twice,

And Libas, and the white-cheeked Pitho thrice.

Corinna craved it in a summer's night,

And nine sweet bouts had we[385]before daylight.

What, waste my limbs through some Thessalian charms?

May spells and drugs do silly souls such harms?

With virgin wax hath some imbast[386]my joints?

And pierced my liver with sharp needle-points?[387]30

Charms change corn to grass and make it die:

By charms are running springs and fountains dry.

By charms mast drops from oaks, from vines grapes fall,

And fruit from trees when there's no wind at all.

Why might not then my sinews be enchanted?

And I grow faint as with some spirit haunted?

To this, add shame: shame to perform it quailed me,

And was the second cause why vigour failed me.

My idle thoughts delighted her no more,

Than did the robe or garment which she wore.40

Yet might her touch make youthful Pylius fire,

And Tithon livelier than his years require.

Even her I had, and she had me in vain,

What might I crave more, if I ask again?

I think the great gods grieved they had bestowed,

This[388]benefit: which lewdly[389]I foreslowed.[390]

I wished to be received in, in[391]I get me.

To kiss, I kiss;[392]to lie with her, she let me.

Why was I blest? why made king to refuse[393]it?

Chuff-like had I not gold and could not use it?50

So in a spring thrives he that told so much,[394]

And looks upon the fruits he cannot touch.

Hath any rose so from a fresh young maid,

As she might straight have gone to church and prayed?

Well, I believe, she kissed not as she should,

Nor used the sleight and[395]cunning which she could.

Huge oaks, hard adamants might she have moved,

And with sweet words caus[ed] deaf rocks to have loved.

Worthy she was to move both gods and men,

But neither was I man nor livèd then.60

Can deaf ears[396]take delight when Phæmius sings?

Or Thamyris in curious painted things?

What sweet thought is there but I had the same?

And one gave place still as another came.

Yet notwithstanding, like one dead it lay,

Drooping more than a rose pulled yesterday.

Now, when he should not jet, he bolts upright,

And craves his task, and seeks to be at fight.

Lie down with shame, and see thou stir no more.

Seeing thou[397]would'st deceive me as before.70

Thou cozenest me: by thee surprised am I,

And bide sore loss[398]with endless infamy.

Nay more, the wench did not disdain a whit

To take it in her hand, and play with it.

But when she saw it would by no means stand,

But still drooped down, regarding not her hand,

"Why mock'st thou me," she cried, "or being ill,

Who bade thee lie down here against thy will?

Either thou art witched with blood of frogs[399]new dead,

Or jaded cam'st thou from some other's bed."80

With that, her loose gown on, from me she cast her;

In skipping out her naked feet much graced her.

And lest her maid should know of this disgrace,

To cover it, spilt water in the place.

FOOTNOTES:[381]So eds. B, C.—Ishamcopy and ed. A:—"That were as white as is the Scithian snow."[382]"Dominumque vocavit."[383]So Isham copy and ed. A.—Eds. B, C "When."[384]"Flava Chlide."[385]So Isham copy and ed. A.—Eds. B, C "we had."[386]The verb "embase" or "imbase" is frequently found in the sense of "abase." Here the meaning seems to be "weakened, enfeebled." (Ovid's words are "Sagave pœnicea defixit nomina cera.")[387]So Isham copy and ed. A ("needle points").—Eds. B, C "needles' points."[388]So Isham copy and ed. A.—Eds. B, C "The."[389]"Turpiter."[390]Neglected.[391]So eds. B, C.—Isham copy "received in,andin Igotme."[392]So old eds.—Dyce reads "kiss'd."[393]So eds. B, C.—Isham copy and ed. A "and refusde it."[394]"Sic aret mediis taciti vulgator in undis."[395]So eds. B, C.—Isham copy and ed. A "nor."[396]Isham copy "yeares;" ed. A "yeres;" eds. B, C "eare."[397]So eds. B, C.—Isham copy and ed. A "Seeing now thou."[398]So eds. B, C.—Isham copy and ed. A "great hurt."[399]The original has "Aut te trajectis Aeaea veneficalanis," &c. (As Dyce remarks, Marlowe read "ranis.")

[381]So eds. B, C.—Ishamcopy and ed. A:—"That were as white as is the Scithian snow."

[381]So eds. B, C.—Ishamcopy and ed. A:—

"That were as white as is the Scithian snow."

[382]"Dominumque vocavit."

[383]So Isham copy and ed. A.—Eds. B, C "When."

[384]"Flava Chlide."

[385]So Isham copy and ed. A.—Eds. B, C "we had."

[386]The verb "embase" or "imbase" is frequently found in the sense of "abase." Here the meaning seems to be "weakened, enfeebled." (Ovid's words are "Sagave pœnicea defixit nomina cera.")

[387]So Isham copy and ed. A ("needle points").—Eds. B, C "needles' points."

[388]So Isham copy and ed. A.—Eds. B, C "The."

[389]"Turpiter."

[390]Neglected.

[391]So eds. B, C.—Isham copy "received in,andin Igotme."

[392]So old eds.—Dyce reads "kiss'd."

[393]So eds. B, C.—Isham copy and ed. A "and refusde it."

[394]"Sic aret mediis taciti vulgator in undis."

[395]So eds. B, C.—Isham copy and ed. A "nor."

[396]Isham copy "yeares;" ed. A "yeres;" eds. B, C "eare."

[397]So eds. B, C.—Isham copy and ed. A "Seeing now thou."

[398]So eds. B, C.—Isham copy and ed. A "great hurt."

[399]The original has "Aut te trajectis Aeaea veneficalanis," &c. (As Dyce remarks, Marlowe read "ranis.")

Quod ad amica non recipiatur, dolet.

What man will now take liberal arts in hand,Or think soft verse in any stead to stand?Wit was sometimes more precious than gold;Now poverty great barbarism we hold.When our books did my mistress fair content,I might not go whither my papers went.She praised me, yet the gate shut fast upon her,I here and there go, witty with dishonour.See a rich chuff, whose wounds great wealth inferred,For bloodshed knighted, before me preferred.10Fool, can'st thou him in thy white arms embrace?Fool, can'st thou lie in his enfolding space?Know'st not this head[401]a helm was wont to bear?This side that serves thee, a sharp sword did wear.His left hand, whereon gold doth ill alight,A target bore: blood-sprinkled was his right.Can'st touch that hand wherewith some one lies dead?Ah, whither is thy breast's soft nature fled?Behold the signs of ancient fight, his scars!Whate'er he hath, his body gained in wars.20Perhaps he'll tell how oft he slew a man,Confessing this, why dost thou touch him than?[402]I, the pure priest of Phœbus and the Muses,At thy deaf doors in verse sing my abuses.Not what we slothful know,[403]let wise men learn,But follow trembling camps and battles stern.And for a good verse draw the first dart forth:[404]Homer without this shall be nothing worth.Jove, being admonished gold had sovereign power,To win the maid came in a golden shower.30Till then, rough was her father, she severe,The posts of brass, the walls of iron were.But when in gifts the wise adulterer came,She held her lap ope to receive the same.Yet when old Saturn heaven's rule possest,All gain in darkness the deep earth supprest.Gold, silver, iron's heavy weight, and brass,In hell were harboured; here was found no mass.But better things it gave, corn without ploughs,Apples, and honey in oaks' hollow boughs.40With strong ploughshares no man the earth did cleave,The ditcher no marks on the ground did leave.Nor hanging oars the troubled seas did sweep,Men kept the shore and sailed not into deep.Against thyself, man's nature, thou wert cunning,And to thine own loss was thy wit swift running.Why gird'st thy cities with a towerèd wall,Why let'st discordant hands to armour fall?What dost with seas? with th' earth thou wert content;Why seek'st not heaven, the third realm, to frequent?50Heaven thou affects: with Romulus, temples brave,Bacchus, Alcides, and now Cæsar have.Gold from the earth instead of fruits we pluck;Soldiers by blood to be enriched have luck.Courts shut the poor out; wealth gives estimation.Thence grows the judge, and knight of reputation.All,[405]they possess: they govern fields and laws,They manage peace and raw war's bloody jaws.Only our loves let not such rich churls gain:'Tis well if some wench for the poor remain.60Now, Sabine-like, though chaste she seems to live,One her[406]commands, who many things can give.For me, she doth keeper[407]and husband fear,If I should give, both would the house forbear.If of scorned lovers god be venger just,O let him change goods so ill-got to dust.

What man will now take liberal arts in hand,

Or think soft verse in any stead to stand?

Wit was sometimes more precious than gold;

Now poverty great barbarism we hold.

When our books did my mistress fair content,

I might not go whither my papers went.

She praised me, yet the gate shut fast upon her,

I here and there go, witty with dishonour.

See a rich chuff, whose wounds great wealth inferred,

For bloodshed knighted, before me preferred.10

Fool, can'st thou him in thy white arms embrace?

Fool, can'st thou lie in his enfolding space?

Know'st not this head[401]a helm was wont to bear?

This side that serves thee, a sharp sword did wear.

His left hand, whereon gold doth ill alight,

A target bore: blood-sprinkled was his right.

Can'st touch that hand wherewith some one lies dead?

Ah, whither is thy breast's soft nature fled?

Behold the signs of ancient fight, his scars!

Whate'er he hath, his body gained in wars.20

Perhaps he'll tell how oft he slew a man,

Confessing this, why dost thou touch him than?[402]

I, the pure priest of Phœbus and the Muses,

At thy deaf doors in verse sing my abuses.

Not what we slothful know,[403]let wise men learn,

But follow trembling camps and battles stern.

And for a good verse draw the first dart forth:[404]

Homer without this shall be nothing worth.

Jove, being admonished gold had sovereign power,

To win the maid came in a golden shower.30

Till then, rough was her father, she severe,

The posts of brass, the walls of iron were.

But when in gifts the wise adulterer came,

She held her lap ope to receive the same.

Yet when old Saturn heaven's rule possest,

All gain in darkness the deep earth supprest.

Gold, silver, iron's heavy weight, and brass,

In hell were harboured; here was found no mass.

But better things it gave, corn without ploughs,

Apples, and honey in oaks' hollow boughs.40

With strong ploughshares no man the earth did cleave,

The ditcher no marks on the ground did leave.

Nor hanging oars the troubled seas did sweep,

Men kept the shore and sailed not into deep.

Against thyself, man's nature, thou wert cunning,

And to thine own loss was thy wit swift running.

Why gird'st thy cities with a towerèd wall,

Why let'st discordant hands to armour fall?

What dost with seas? with th' earth thou wert content;

Why seek'st not heaven, the third realm, to frequent?50

Heaven thou affects: with Romulus, temples brave,

Bacchus, Alcides, and now Cæsar have.

Gold from the earth instead of fruits we pluck;

Soldiers by blood to be enriched have luck.

Courts shut the poor out; wealth gives estimation.

Thence grows the judge, and knight of reputation.

All,[405]they possess: they govern fields and laws,

They manage peace and raw war's bloody jaws.

Only our loves let not such rich churls gain:

'Tis well if some wench for the poor remain.60

Now, Sabine-like, though chaste she seems to live,

One her[406]commands, who many things can give.

For me, she doth keeper[407]and husband fear,

If I should give, both would the house forbear.

If of scorned lovers god be venger just,

O let him change goods so ill-got to dust.

FOOTNOTES:[400]Not in Isham copy or ed. A.[401]So ed. B.—Ed. C "his." ("Caputhocgaleam portare solebat.")[402]Then.[403]Old eds. knew.[404]Marlowe has quite mistaken the meaning of the original "Proque bono versu primum deducite pilum."[405]A very loose rendering of Ovid's couplet—"Omnia possideant; illis Campusque ForumqueServiat; hi pacem crudaque bella gerant."[406]So Dyce for "she" of the old eds. ("Imperat ut captae qui dare multa potest.")[407]The original has "Me prohibet custos: in me timet illa maritum."

[400]Not in Isham copy or ed. A.

[401]So ed. B.—Ed. C "his." ("Caputhocgaleam portare solebat.")

[402]Then.

[403]Old eds. knew.

[404]Marlowe has quite mistaken the meaning of the original "Proque bono versu primum deducite pilum."

[405]A very loose rendering of Ovid's couplet—"Omnia possideant; illis Campusque ForumqueServiat; hi pacem crudaque bella gerant."

[405]A very loose rendering of Ovid's couplet—

"Omnia possideant; illis Campusque ForumqueServiat; hi pacem crudaque bella gerant."

"Omnia possideant; illis Campusque Forumque

Serviat; hi pacem crudaque bella gerant."

[406]So Dyce for "she" of the old eds. ("Imperat ut captae qui dare multa potest.")

[407]The original has "Me prohibet custos: in me timet illa maritum."

Tibulli mortem deflet.

If Thetis and the Morn their sons did wail,And envious Fates great goddesses assail;Sad Elegy,[409]thy woful hairs unbind:Ah, now a name too true thou hast I find.Tibullus, thy work's poet, and thy fame,Burns his dead body in the funeral flame.Lo, Cupid brings his quiver spoilèd quite,His broken bow, his firebrand without light!How piteously with drooping wings he stands,And knocks his bare breast with self-angry hands.10The locks spread on his neck receive his tears,And shaking sobs his mouth for speeches bears.So[410]at Æneas' burial, men report,Fair-faced Iülus, he went forth thy court.And Venus grieves, Tibullus' life being spent,As when the wild boar Adon's groin had rent.The gods' care we are called, and men of piety,And some there be that think we have a deity.Outrageous death profanes all holy things,And on all creatures obscure darkness brings.20To Thracian Orpheus what did parents good?Or songs amazing wild beasts of the wood?Where[411]Linus by his father Phœbus laid,To sing with his unequalled harp is said.See Homer from whose fountain ever filledPierian dew to poets is distilled:Him the last day in black Avern hath drowned:Verses alone are with continuance crowned.The work of poets lasts: Troy's labour's fame,And that slow web night's falsehood did unframe.30So Nemesis, so Delia famous are,The one his first love, th' other his new care.What profit to us hath our pure life bred?What to have lain alone in empty bed?When bad Fates take good men, I am forbodBy secret thoughts to think there is a God.Live godly, thou shalt die; though honour heaven,Yet shall thy life be forcibly bereaven.Trust in good verse, Tibullus feels death's pains,Scarce rests of all what a small urn contains.40Thee, sacred poet, could sad flames destroy?Nor fearèd they thy body to annoy?The holy gods' gilt temples they might fire,That durst to so great wickedness aspire.Eryx' bright empress turned her looks aside,And some, that she refrained tears, have denied.Yet better is't, than if Corcyra's Isle,Had thee unknown interred in ground most vile.Thy dying eyes here did thy mother close,Nor did thy ashes her last offerings lose.50Part of her sorrow here thy sister bearing,Comes forth, her unkembed[412]locks asunder tearing.Nemesis and thy first wench join their kissesWith thine, nor this last fire their presence misses.Delia departing, "Happier loved," she saith,"Was I: thou liv'dst, while thou esteem'dst my faith."Nemesis answers, "What's my loss to thee?His fainting hand in death engraspèd me."If aught remains of us but name and spirit,Tibullus doth Elysium's joy inherit.60Their youthful brows with ivy girt to meet him,With Calvus learned Catullus comes, and greet him;And thou, if falsely charged to wrong thy friend,Callus, that car'dst[413]not blood and life to spend,With these thy soul walks: souls if death release,The godly[414]sweet Tibullus doth increase.Thy bones, I pray, may in the urn safe rest,And may th' earth's weight thy ashes naught molest.

If Thetis and the Morn their sons did wail,

And envious Fates great goddesses assail;

Sad Elegy,[409]thy woful hairs unbind:

Ah, now a name too true thou hast I find.

Tibullus, thy work's poet, and thy fame,

Burns his dead body in the funeral flame.

Lo, Cupid brings his quiver spoilèd quite,

His broken bow, his firebrand without light!

How piteously with drooping wings he stands,

And knocks his bare breast with self-angry hands.10

The locks spread on his neck receive his tears,

And shaking sobs his mouth for speeches bears.

So[410]at Æneas' burial, men report,

Fair-faced Iülus, he went forth thy court.

And Venus grieves, Tibullus' life being spent,

As when the wild boar Adon's groin had rent.

The gods' care we are called, and men of piety,

And some there be that think we have a deity.

Outrageous death profanes all holy things,

And on all creatures obscure darkness brings.20

To Thracian Orpheus what did parents good?

Or songs amazing wild beasts of the wood?

Where[411]Linus by his father Phœbus laid,

To sing with his unequalled harp is said.

See Homer from whose fountain ever filled

Pierian dew to poets is distilled:

Him the last day in black Avern hath drowned:

Verses alone are with continuance crowned.

The work of poets lasts: Troy's labour's fame,

And that slow web night's falsehood did unframe.30

So Nemesis, so Delia famous are,

The one his first love, th' other his new care.

What profit to us hath our pure life bred?

What to have lain alone in empty bed?

When bad Fates take good men, I am forbod

By secret thoughts to think there is a God.

Live godly, thou shalt die; though honour heaven,

Yet shall thy life be forcibly bereaven.

Trust in good verse, Tibullus feels death's pains,

Scarce rests of all what a small urn contains.40

Thee, sacred poet, could sad flames destroy?

Nor fearèd they thy body to annoy?

The holy gods' gilt temples they might fire,

That durst to so great wickedness aspire.

Eryx' bright empress turned her looks aside,

And some, that she refrained tears, have denied.

Yet better is't, than if Corcyra's Isle,

Had thee unknown interred in ground most vile.

Thy dying eyes here did thy mother close,

Nor did thy ashes her last offerings lose.50

Part of her sorrow here thy sister bearing,

Comes forth, her unkembed[412]locks asunder tearing.

Nemesis and thy first wench join their kisses

With thine, nor this last fire their presence misses.

Delia departing, "Happier loved," she saith,

"Was I: thou liv'dst, while thou esteem'dst my faith."

Nemesis answers, "What's my loss to thee?

His fainting hand in death engraspèd me."

If aught remains of us but name and spirit,

Tibullus doth Elysium's joy inherit.60

Their youthful brows with ivy girt to meet him,

With Calvus learned Catullus comes, and greet him;

And thou, if falsely charged to wrong thy friend,

Callus, that car'dst[413]not blood and life to spend,

With these thy soul walks: souls if death release,

The godly[414]sweet Tibullus doth increase.

Thy bones, I pray, may in the urn safe rest,

And may th' earth's weight thy ashes naught molest.

FOOTNOTES:[408]Not in Isham copy or ed. A.[409]Ed. B "Eeliga"—Ed. C "Elegia."[410]"Fratris in Aeneae sic illum funere dicuntEgressum tectis, pulcher Iule, tuis."[411]The original has—"Aelinon in silvis idem pater, aelinon, altisDicitur invita concinuisse lyra."In Marlowe's copy the couplet must have been very different.[412]Old eds. "vnkeembe" and "unkeemb'd."[413]Old eds. "carst."[414]"Auxisti numeros, culte Tibulle, pios."

[408]Not in Isham copy or ed. A.

[409]Ed. B "Eeliga"—Ed. C "Elegia."

[410]"Fratris in Aeneae sic illum funere dicuntEgressum tectis, pulcher Iule, tuis."

[410]

"Fratris in Aeneae sic illum funere dicuntEgressum tectis, pulcher Iule, tuis."

"Fratris in Aeneae sic illum funere dicunt

Egressum tectis, pulcher Iule, tuis."

[411]The original has—"Aelinon in silvis idem pater, aelinon, altisDicitur invita concinuisse lyra."In Marlowe's copy the couplet must have been very different.

[411]The original has—

"Aelinon in silvis idem pater, aelinon, altisDicitur invita concinuisse lyra."

"Aelinon in silvis idem pater, aelinon, altis

Dicitur invita concinuisse lyra."

In Marlowe's copy the couplet must have been very different.

[412]Old eds. "vnkeembe" and "unkeemb'd."

[413]Old eds. "carst."

[414]"Auxisti numeros, culte Tibulle, pios."

Ad Cererem, conquerens quod ejus sacris cum amica concumbere non permittatur.

Come were the times of Ceres' sacrifice;In empty bed alone my mistress lies.Golden-haired Ceres crowned with ears of corn,Why are our pleasures by thy means forborne?Thee, goddess, bountiful all nations judge,Nor less at man's prosperity any grudge.Rude husbandmen baked not their corn before,Nor on the earth was known the name of floor.[416]On mast of oaks, first oracles, men fed;This was their meat, the soft grass was their bed.10First Ceres taught the seed in fields to swell,And ripe-eared corn with sharp-edged scythes to fell.She first constrained bulls' necks to bear the yoke,And untilled ground with crooked ploughshares broke.Who thinks her to be glad at lovers' smart,And worshipped by their pain and lying apart?Nor is she, though she loves the fertile fields,A clown, nor no love from her warm breast yields:Be witness Crete (nor Crete doth all things feign)Crete proud that Jove her nursery maintain.20There, he who rules the world's star-spangled towers,A little boy drunk teat-distilling showers.Faith to the witness Jove's praise doth apply;Ceres, I think, no known fault will deny.The goddess saw Iasion on Candian Ide,With strong hand striking wild beasts' bristled hide.She saw, and as her marrow took the flame,Was divers ways distract with love and shame.Love conquered shame, the furrows dry were burned,And corn with least part of itself returned.30When well-tossed mattocks did the ground prepare,Being fit-broken with the crooked share,And seeds were equally in large fields cast,The ploughman's hopes were frustrate at the last.The grain-rich goddess in high woods did stray,Her long hair's ear-wrought garland fell away.Only was Crete fruitful that plenteous year;Where Ceres went, each place was harvest there.Ida, the seat of groves, did sing[417]with corn,Which by the wild boar in the woods was shorn.40Law-giving Minos did such years desire,And wished the goddess long might feel love's fire.Ceres, what sports[418]to thee so grievous were,As in thy sacrifice we them forbear?Why am I sad, when Proserpine is found,And Juno-like with Dis reigns under ground?Festival days ask Venus, songs, and wine,These gifts are meet to please the powers divine.

Come were the times of Ceres' sacrifice;

In empty bed alone my mistress lies.

Golden-haired Ceres crowned with ears of corn,

Why are our pleasures by thy means forborne?

Thee, goddess, bountiful all nations judge,

Nor less at man's prosperity any grudge.

Rude husbandmen baked not their corn before,

Nor on the earth was known the name of floor.[416]

On mast of oaks, first oracles, men fed;

This was their meat, the soft grass was their bed.10

First Ceres taught the seed in fields to swell,

And ripe-eared corn with sharp-edged scythes to fell.

She first constrained bulls' necks to bear the yoke,

And untilled ground with crooked ploughshares broke.

Who thinks her to be glad at lovers' smart,

And worshipped by their pain and lying apart?

Nor is she, though she loves the fertile fields,

A clown, nor no love from her warm breast yields:

Be witness Crete (nor Crete doth all things feign)

Crete proud that Jove her nursery maintain.20

There, he who rules the world's star-spangled towers,

A little boy drunk teat-distilling showers.

Faith to the witness Jove's praise doth apply;

Ceres, I think, no known fault will deny.

The goddess saw Iasion on Candian Ide,

With strong hand striking wild beasts' bristled hide.

She saw, and as her marrow took the flame,

Was divers ways distract with love and shame.

Love conquered shame, the furrows dry were burned,

And corn with least part of itself returned.30

When well-tossed mattocks did the ground prepare,

Being fit-broken with the crooked share,

And seeds were equally in large fields cast,

The ploughman's hopes were frustrate at the last.

The grain-rich goddess in high woods did stray,

Her long hair's ear-wrought garland fell away.

Only was Crete fruitful that plenteous year;

Where Ceres went, each place was harvest there.

Ida, the seat of groves, did sing[417]with corn,

Which by the wild boar in the woods was shorn.40

Law-giving Minos did such years desire,

And wished the goddess long might feel love's fire.

Ceres, what sports[418]to thee so grievous were,

As in thy sacrifice we them forbear?

Why am I sad, when Proserpine is found,

And Juno-like with Dis reigns under ground?

Festival days ask Venus, songs, and wine,

These gifts are meet to please the powers divine.

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