The Mvses Elizivm

A poem by Michael Drayton

The Description of Elizium

A Paradice on earth is found,
Though farre from vulgar sight,
Which with those pleasures doth abound
That it Elizium hight.

Where, in Delights that neuer fade,
The Muses lulled be,
And sit at pleasure in the shade
Of many a stately tree,

Which no rough Tempest makes to reele
Nor their straight bodies bowes,
Their lofty tops doe neuer feele
The weight of winters snowes;

In Groues that euermore are greene,
No falling leafe is there,
But Philomel (of birds the Queene)
In Musicke spends the yeare.

The Merle vpon her mertle Perch,
There to the Mavis sings,
Who from the top of some curld Berch
Those notes redoubled rings;

There Daysyes damaske euery place
Nor once their beauties lose,
That when proud Phoebus hides his face
Themselues they scorne to close.

The Pansy and the Violet here,
As seeming to descend,
Both from one Root, a very payre,
For sweetnesse yet contend,

And pointing to a Pinke to tell
Which beares it, it is loath,
To iudge it; but replyes for smell
That it excels them both.

Wherewith displeasde they hang their heads
So angry soone they grow
And from their odoriferous beds
Their sweets at it they throw.

The winter here a Summer is,
No waste is made by time,
Nor doth the Autumne euer misse
The blossomes of the Prime.

The flower that Iuly forth doth bring
In Aprill here is seene,
The Primrose that puts on the Spring
In Iuly decks each Greene.

The sweets for soueraignty contend
And so abundant be,
That to the very Earth they lend
And Barke of euery Tree:

Rills rising out of euery Banck,
In wild Meanders strayne,
And playing many a wanton pranck
Vpon the speckled plaine,

In Gambols and lascivious Gyres
Their time they still bestow
Nor to their Fountaines none retyres,
Nor on their course will goe.

Those Brooks with Lillies brauely deckt,
So proud and wanton made,
That they their courses quite neglect:
And seeme as though they stayde,

Faire Flora in her state to viewe
Which through those Lillies looks,
Or as those Lillies leand to shew
Their beauties to the brooks.

That Phoebusin his lofty race,
Oft layes aside his beames
And comes to coole his glowing face
In these delicious streames;

Oft spreading Vines clime vp the Cleeues,
Whose ripned clusters there,
Their liquid purple drop, which driues
A Vintage through the yeere.

Those Cleeues whose craggy sides are clad
With Trees of sundry sutes,
Which make continuall summer glad,
Euen bending with their fruits,

Some ripening, ready some to fall,
Some blossom'd, some to bloome,
Like gorgeous hangings on the wall
Of some rich princely Roome:

Pomegranates, Lymons, Cytrons, so
Their laded branches bow,
Their leaues in number that outgoe
Nor roomth will them alow.

There in perpetuall Summers shade,
Apolloes Prophets sit,
Among the flowres that neuer fade,
But flowrish like their wit;

To whom the Nimphes vpon their Lyres,
Tune many a curious lay,
And with their most melodious Quires
Make short the longest day.

The thrice three Virgins heavenly Cleere,
Their trembling Timbrels sound,
Whilst the three comely Graces there
Dance many a dainty Round,

Decay nor Age there nothing knowes,
There is continuall Youth,
As Time on plant or creatures growes,
So still their strength renewth.

The Poets Paradice this is,
To which but few can come;
The Muses onely bower of blisse
Their Deare Elizium.

Here happy soules, (their blessed bowers,
Free from the rude resort
Of beastly people) spend the houres,
In harmelesse mirth and sport,

Then on to the Elizian plaines
Apollo doth invite you
Where he prouides with pastorall straines,
In Nimphals to delight you.

The first Nimphall


This Nimphall of delights doth treat,
Choice beauties, and proportions neat,
Of curious shapes, and dainty features
Describd in two most perfect creatures.

When Phoebus with a face of mirth,
Had flong abroad his beames,
To blanch the bosome of the earth,
And glaze the gliding streames.
Within a goodly Mertle groue,
Vpon that hallowed day
The Nimphes to the bright Queene of loue
Their vowes were vsde to pay.
Faire Rodope and Dorida
Met in those sacred shades,
Then whom the Sunne in all his way,
Nere saw two daintier Maids.
And through the thickets thrild his fires,
Supposing to haue seene
The soueraigne Goddesse of desires,
Or Ioves Emperious Queene:
Both of so wondrous beauties were,
In shape both so excell,
That to be paraleld elsewhere,
No iudging eye could tell.
And their affections so surpasse,
As well it might be deemd,
That th' one of them the other was,
And but themselues they seem'd.
And whilst the Nimphes that neare this place,
Disposed were to play
At Barly-breake and Prison-base,
Doe passe the time away:
This peerlesse payre together set,
The other at their sport,
None neare their free discourse to let,
Each other thus they court,

Dorida. My sweet, my soueraigne Rodope,
My deare delight, my loue,
That Locke of hayre thou sentst to me,
I to this Bracelet woue;
Which brighter euery day doth grow
The longer it is worne,
As its delicious fellowes doe,
Thy Temples that adorne.

Rodope. Nay had I thine my Dorida,
I would them so bestow,
As that the winde vpon my way,
Might backward make them flow,
So should it in its greatst excesse
Turne to becalmed ayre,
And quite forget all boistrousnesse
To play with euery hayre.

Dorida. To me like thine had nature giuen,
A Brow, so Archt, so cleere,
A Front, wherein so much of heauen
Doth to each eye appeare,
The world should see, I would strike dead
The Milky Way that's now,
And say that Nectar Hebe shed
Fell all vpon my Brow.

Rodope. O had I eyes like Doridaes,
I would inchant the day
And make the Sunne to stand at gaze,
Till he forget his way:
And cause his Sister Queene of Streames,
When so I list by night;
By her much blushing at my Beames
T' eclipse her borrowed light.

Dorida. Had I a Cheeke like Rodopes,
In midst of which doth stand,
A Groue of Roses, such as these,
In such a snowy land:
I would then make the Lilly which we now
So much for whitenesse name,
As drooping downe the head to bow,

And die for very shame.

Rodope. Had I a bosome like to thine,
When I it pleas'd to show,
T' what part o' th' Skie I would incline
I would make th' Etheriall bowe,
My swannish breast brancht all with blew,
In brauery like the spring:
In Winter to the generall view
Full Summer forth should bring.

Dorida. Had I a body like my deare,
Were I so straight so tall,
O, if so broad my shoulders were,
Had I a waste so small;
I would challenge the proud Queene of loue
To yeeld to me for shape,
And I should feare that Mars or Iove
Would venter for my rape.

Rodope. Had I a hand like thee my Gerle,
(This hand O let me kisse)
These Ivory Arrowes pyl'd with pearle,
Had I a hand like this;
I would not doubt at all to make,
Each finger of my hand
To taske swift Mercury to take
With his inchanting wand.

Dorida. Had I a Theigh like Rodopes;
Which twas my chance to viewe,
When lying on yon banck at ease,
The wind thy skirt vp blew,
I would say it were a columne wrought
To some intent Diuine,
And for our chaste Diana sought,
A pillar for her shryne.

Rodope. Had I a Leg but like to thine
That were so neat, so cleane,
A swelling Calfe, a Small so fine,
An Ankle, round and leane,
I would tell nature she doth misse
Her old skill; and maintaine,
She shewd her master peece in this,
Not to be done againe.

Dorida. Had I that Foot hid in those shoos,
(Proportion'd to my height)
Short Heele, thin Instep, euen Toes,
A Sole so wondrous straight,
The Forresters and Nimphes at this
Amazed all should stand,
And kneeling downe, should meekely kisse
The Print left in the sand.

By this the Nimphes came from their sport,
All pleased wondrous well,
And to these Maydens make report

What lately them befell:
One said the dainty Lelipa
Did all the rest out-goe,
Another would a wager lay
She would outstrip a Roe;
Sayes one, how like you Florimel
There is your dainty face:
A fourth replide, she lik't that well,
Yet better lik't her grace,
She's counted, I confesse, quoth she,
To be our onely Pearle,
Yet haue I heard her oft to be
A melancholy Gerle.
Another said she quite mistoke,
That onely was her art,
When melancholly had her looke
Then mirth was in her heart;
And hath she then that pretty trick
Another doth reply,
I thought no Nimph could haue bin sick
Of that disease but I;
I know you can dissemble well
Quoth one to giue you due,
But here be some (who Ile not tell)
Can do't as well as you,
Who thus replies, I know that too,
We haue it from our Mother,
Yet there be some this thing can doe
More cunningly then other:
If Maydens but dissemble can
Their sorrow and ther ioy,
Their pore dissimulation than,
Is but a very toy.

The second Nimphall


The Muse new Courtship doth deuise,
By Natures strange Varieties,
Whose Rarieties she here relates,
And giues you Pastorall Delicates.

Lalus a Iolly youthfull Lad,
With Cleon, no lesse crown'd
With vertues; both their beings had
On the Elizian ground.
Both hauing parts so excellent,
That it a question was,
Which should be the most eminent,
Or did in ought surpasse:
This Cleon was a Mountaineer,
And of the wilder kinde,
And from his birth had many a yeere
Bin nurst vp by a Hinde.
And as the sequell well did show,
It very well might be;
For neuer Hart, nor Hare, nor Roe,
Were halfe so swift as he.
But Lalus in the Vale was bred,
Amongst the Sheepe and Neate,
And by these Nimphes there choicly fed,
With Hony, Milke, and Wheate;
Of Stature goodly, faire of speech,
And of behauiour mylde,
Like those there in the Valley rich,
That bred him of a chyld.
Of Falconry they had the skill,
Their Halkes to feed and flye,
No better Hunters ere clome Hill,
Nor hollowed to a Cry:
In Dingles deepe, and Mountains hore,
Oft with the bearded Speare
They combated the tusky Boare,
And slew the angry Beare.
In Musicke they were wondrous quaint,
Fine Aers they could deuise;
They very curiously could Paint,
And neatly Poetize;
That wagers many time were laid
On Questions that arose,
Which song the witty Lalus made,
Which Cleon should compose.
The stately Steed they manag'd well,
Of Fence the art they knew,
For Dansing they did all excell
The Gerles that to them drew;
To throw the Sledge, to pitch the Barre,
To wrestle and to Run,
They all the Youth exceld so farre,
That still the Prize they wonne.
These sprightly Gallants lou'd a Lasse,
Cald Lirope the bright,
In the whole world there scarcely was
So delicate a Wight,
There was no Beauty so diuine
That euer Nimph did grace,
But it beyond it selfe did shine
In her more heuenly face:
What forme she pleasd each thing would take
That ere she did behold,
Of Pebbles she could Diamonds make,
Grosse Iron turne to Gold:
Such power there with her presence came
Sterne Tempests she alayd,
The cruell Tiger she could tame,
She raging Torrents staid,
She chid, she cherisht, she gaue life,
Againe she made to dye,
She raisd a warre, apeasd a Strife,
With turning of her eye.
Some said a God did her beget,
But much deceiu'd were they,
Her Father was a Riuelet,
Her Mother was a Fay.
Her Lineaments so fine that were,
She from the Fayrie tooke,
Her Beauties and Complection cleere,
By nature from the Brooke.
These Ryualls wayting for the houre
(The weather calme and faire)
When as she vs'd to leaue her Bower
To take the pleasant ayre
Acosting her; their complement
To her their Goddesse done;
By gifts they tempt her to consent,
When Lalus thus begun.

Lalus. Sweet Lirope I haue a Lambe
Newly wayned from the Damme,
Of the right kinde, it is notted,[1]
Naturally with purple spotted,
Into laughter it will put you,
To see how prettily 'twill But you;
When on sporting it is set,
It will beate you a Corvet,
And at euery nimble bound
Turne it selfe aboue the ground;
When tis hungry it will bleate,
From your hand to haue its meate,
And when it hath fully fed,
It will fetch Iumpes aboue your head,
As innocently to expresse
Its silly sheepish thankfullnesse,
When you bid it, it will play,
Be it either night or day,
This Lirope I haue for thee,
So thou alone wilt liue with me.

Cleon. From him O turne thine eare away,
And heare me my lou'd Lirope,
I haue a Kid as white as milke,
His skin as soft as Naples silke,
His hornes in length are wondrous euen,
And curiously by nature writhen;
It is of th' Arcadian kinde,
Ther's not the like twixt either Inde;
If you walke, 'twill walke you by,
If you sit downe, it downe will lye,
It with gesture will you wooe,
And counterfeit those things you doe;
Ore each Hillock it will vault,
And nimbly doe the Summer-sault,
Upon the hinder Legs 'twill goe,
And follow you a furlong so,
And if by chance a Tune you roate,
'Twill foote it finely to your note,
Seeke the worlde and you may misse
To finde out such a thing as this;
This my loue I haue for thee
So thou'lt leaue him and goe with me.

Lirope. Beleeue me Youths your gifts are rare,
And you offer wondrous faire;
Lalus for Lambe, Cleon for Kyd,
'Tis hard to iudge which most doth bid,
And haue you two such things in store,
And I n'er knew of them before?
Well yet I dare a Wager lay
That Brag my little Dog shall play,
As dainty tricks when I shall bid,
As Lalus Lambe, or Cleons Kid.
But t' may fall out that I may neede them
Till when yee may doe well to feed them;
Your Goate and Mutton pretty be
But Youths these are noe bayts for me,
Alasse good men, in vaine ye wooe,
'Tis not your Lambe nor Kid will doe.

Lalus. I haue two Sparrowes white as Snow,
Whose pretty eyes like sparkes doe show;
In her Bosome Venus hatcht them
Where her little Cupid watcht them,
Till they too fledge their Nests forsooke
Themselues and to the Fields betooke,
Where by chance a Fowler caught them
Of whom I full dearely bought them;
They'll fetch you Conserue from the Hip,[2]
And lay it softly on your Lip,
Through their nibling bills they'll Chirup
And fluttering feed you with the Sirup,
And if thence you put them by
They to your white necke will flye,
And if you expulse them there
They'll hang vpon your braded Hayre;
You so long shall see them prattle
Till at length they'll fall to battle,
And when they haue fought their fill,
You will smile to see them bill
These birds my Lirope's shall be
So thou'lt leaue him and goe with me.

Cleon. His Sparrowes are not worth a rush
I'le finde as good in euery bush,
Of Doues I haue a dainty paire
Which when you please to take the Air,
About your head shall gently houer
You Cleere browe from the Sunne to couer,
And with their nimble wings shall fan you,
That neither Cold nor Heate shall tan you,
And like Vmbrellas with their feathers
Sheeld you in all sorts of weathers:
They be most dainty Coloured things,
They haue Damask backs and Chequerd wings,
Their neckes more Various Cullours showe
Then there be mixed in the Bowe;
Venus saw the lesser Doue
And therewith was farre in Loue,
Offering for't her goulden Ball
For her Sonne to play withall;
These my Liropes shall be
So shee'll leaue him and goe with me.

Lirope. Then for Sparrowes, and for Doues
I am fitted twixt my Loues,
But Lalus I take no delight
In Sparowes, for they'll scratch and bite
And though ioynd, they are euer wooing
Alwayes billing, if not doeing,
Twixt Venus breasts if they haue lyen
I much feare they'll infect myne;
Cleon your Doues are very dainty,
Tame Pidgeons else you know are plenty,
These may winne some of your Marrowes
I am not caught with Doues, nor Sparrowes,
I thanke ye kindly for your Coste,
Yet your labour is but loste.

Lalus. With full-leau'd Lillies I will stick
Thy braded hayre all o'r so thick,
That from it a Light shall throw
Like the Sunnes vpon the Snow.
Thy Mantle shall be Violet Leaues,
With the fin'st the Silkeworme weaues
As finely wouen; whose rich smell
The Ayre about thee so shall swell
That it shall haue no power to mooue.
A Ruffe of Pinkes thy Robe aboue
About thy necke so neatly set
That Art it cannot counterfet,
Which still shall looke so Fresh and new,
As if vpon their Roots they grew:
And for thy head Ile haue a Tyer
Of netting, made of Strawbery wyer,
And in each knot that doth compose
A Mesh, shall stick a halfe blowne Rose,
Red, damaske, white, in order set
About the sides, shall run a Fret
Of Primroses, the Tyer throughout
With Thrift and Dayses frindgd about;
All this faire Nimph Ile doe for thee,
So thou'lt leaue him and goe with me.

Cleon. These be but weeds and Trash he brings,
Ile giue thee solid, costly things,
His will wither and be gone
Before thou well canst put them on;
With Currall I will haue thee Crown'd,
Whose Branches intricatly wound
Shall girt thy Temples euery way;
And on the top of euery Spray
Shall stick a Pearle orient and great,
Which so the wandring Birds shall cheat,
That some shall stoope to looke for Cheries,
As other for tralucent Berries.
And wondering, caught e'r they be ware
In the curld Tramels of thy hayre:
And for thy necke a Christall Chaine
Whose lincks shapt like to drops of Raine,
Vpon thy panting Breast depending,
Shall seeme as they were still descending,
And as thy breath doth come and goe,
So seeming still to ebbe and flow:
With Amber Bracelets cut like Bees,
Whose strange transparency who sees,
With Silke small as the Spiders Twist
Doubled so oft about thy Wrist,
Would surely thinke aliue they were,
From Lillies gathering hony there.
Thy Buskins Ivory, caru'd like Shels
Of Scallope, which as little Bels
Made hollow, with the Ayre shall Chime,
And to thy steps shall keepe the time:
Leaue Lalus, Lirope for me
And these shall thy rich dowry be.

Lirope. Lalus for Flowers. Cleon for Iemmes,
For Garlands and for Diadems,
I shall be sped, why this is braue,
What Nimph can choicer Presents haue,
With dressing, brading, frowncing, flowring,
All your Iewels on me powring,
In this brauery being drest,
To the ground I shall be prest,
That I doubt the Nimphes will feare me,
Nor will venture to come neare me;
Neuer Lady of the May,
To this houre was halfe so gay;
All in flowers, all so sweet,
From the Crowne, beneath the Feet,
Amber, Currall, Ivory, Pearle,
If this cannot win a Gerle,
Ther's nothing can, and this ye wooe me,
Giue me your hands and trust ye to me,
(Yet to tell ye I am loth)
That I'le haue neither of you both;

Lalus. When thou shalt please to stem the flood,
(As thou art of the watry brood)
I'le haue twelve Swannes more white than Snow,
Yokd for the purpose two and two,
To drawe thy Barge wrought of fine Reed
So well that it nought else shall need,
The Traces by which they shall hayle
Thy Barge; shall be the winding trayle
Of woodbynd; whose braue Tasseld Flowers
(The Sweetnesse of the Woodnimphs Bowres)
Shall be the Trappings to adorne,
The Swannes, by which thy Barge is borne,
Of flowred Flags I'le rob the banke
Of water-Cans and King-cups ranck
To be the Couering of thy Boate,
And on the Streame as thou do'st Floate,
The Naiades that haunt the deepe,
Themselues about thy Barge shall keepe,
Recording most delightfull Layes,
By Sea Gods written in thy prayse.
And in what place thou hapst to land,
There the gentle Siluery sand,
Shall soften, curled with the Aier
As sensible of thy repayre:
This my deare loue I'le doe for thee,
So Thou'lt leaue him and goe with me:

Cleon. Tush Nimphe his Swannes will prove but Geese,
His Barge drinke water like a Fleece;
A Boat is base, I'le thee prouide,
A Chariot, wherein Ioue may ride;
In which when brauely thou art borne,
Thou shalt looke like the gloryous morne
Vshering the Sunne, and such a one
As to this day was neuer none,
Of the Rarest Indian Gummes,
More pretious then your Balsamummes
Which I by Art haue made so hard,
That they with Tooles may well be Caru'd
To make a Coach of: which shall be
Materyalls of this one for thee,
And of thy Chariot each small peece
Shall inlayd be with Amber Greece,
And guilded with the Yellow ore
Produc'd from Tagus wealthy shore;
In which along the pleasant Lawne,
With twelue white Stags thou shalt be drawne,
Whose brancht palmes of a stately height,
With seuerall nosegayes shall be dight;
And as thou ryd'st, thy Coach about,
For thy strong guard shall runne a Rout,
Of Estriges; whose Curled plumes,
Sen'sd with thy Chariots rich perfumes,
The scent into the Aier shall throw;
Whose naked Thyes shall grace the show;
Whilst the Woodnimphs and those bred
Vpon the mountayns, o'r thy head
Shall beare a Canopy of flowers,
Tinseld with drops of Aprill showers,
Which shall make more glorious showes
Then spangles, or your siluer Oas;
This bright nimph I'le doe for thee
So thou'lt leaue him and goe with me.

Lirope. Vie and reuie, like Chapmen profer'd,
Would't be receaued what you haue offer'd;
Ye greater honour cannot doe me,
If not building Altars to me:
Both by Water and by Land,
Bardge and Chariot at command;
Swans vpon the Streame to rawe me,
Stags vpon the Land to drawe me,
In all this Pompe should I be seene,
What a pore thing were a Queene:
All delights in such excesse,
As but yee, who can expresse:
Thus mounted should the Nimphes me see,
All the troope would follow me,
Thinking by this state that I
Would asume a Deitie.
There be some in loue haue bin,
And I may commit that sinne,
And if e'r I be in loue,
With one of you I feare twill proue,
But with which I cannot tell,
So my gallant Youths farewell.

The third Nimphall


With Nimphes and Forresters.

Poetick Raptures, sacred fires,
With which Apollo his inspires,
This Nimphall gives you; and withall
Obserues the Muses Festivall.

Amongst th' Elizians many mirthfull Feasts,
At which the Muses are the certaine guests,
Th' obserue one Day with most Emperiall state,
To wise Apollo which they dedicate,
The Poets God; and to his Alters bring
Th' enamel'd Brauery of the beauteous spring,
And strew their Bowers with euery precious sweet,
Which still wax fresh, most trod on with their feet;
With most choice flowers each Nimph doth brade her hayre,
And not the mean'st but bauldrick wise doth weare
Some goodly Garland, and the most renown'd
With curious Roseat Anadems are crown'd.
These being come into the place where they
Yearely obserue the Orgies to that day,
The Muses from their Heliconian spring
Their brimfull Mazers to the feasting bring:
When with deepe Draughts out of those plenteous Bowles,
The iocond Youth haue swild their thirsty soules,
They fall enraged with a sacred heat,
And when their braines doe once begin to sweat
They into braue and Stately numbers breake,
And not a word that any one doth speake
But tis Prophetick, and so strangely farre
In their high fury they transported are,
As there's not one, on any thing can straine,
But by another answred is againe
In the same Rapture, which all sit to heare;
When as two Youths that soundly liquord were,
Dorilus and Doron, two as noble swayns
As euer kept on the Elizian playns,
First by their signes attention hauing woonne,
Thus they the Reuels frolikly begunne.

Doron. Come Dorilus, let vs be brave,
In lofty numbers let vs raue,
With Rymes I will inrich thee.

Dorilus. Content say I, then bid the base,
Our wits shall runne the Wildgoosechase,
Spurre vp, or I will swich thee.

Doron. The Sunne out of the East doth peepe,
And now the day begins to creepe,
Vpon the world at leasure.

Dorilus. The Ayre enamor'd of the Greaues,
The West winde stroaks the velvit leaues
And kisses them at pleasure.

Doron. The spinners webs twixt spray and spray,
The top of euery bush make gay,
By filmy coards there dangling.

Dorilus. For now the last dayes euening dew
Euen to the full it selfe doth shew,
Each bough with Pearle bespangling.

Doron. O Boy how thy abundant vaine
Euen like a Flood breaks from thy braine,
Nor can thy Muse be gaged.

Dorilus. Why nature forth did neuer bring
A man that like to me can sing,
If once I be enraged.

Doron. Why Dorilus I in my skill
Can make the swiftest Streame stand still,
Nay beare back to his springing.

Dorilus. And I into a Trance most deepe
Can cast the Birds that they shall sleepe
When fain'st they would be singing.

Doron. Why Dorilus thou mak'st me mad,
And now my wits begin to gad,
But sure I know not whither.

Dorilus. O Doron let me hug thee then,
There neuer was two madder men,
Then let vs on together.

Doron. Hermes the winged Horse bestrid,
And thorow thick and thin he rid,
And floundred throw the Fountaine.

Dorilus. He spurd the Tit vntill he bled,
So that at last he ran his head
Against the forked Mountaine,

Doron. How sayst thou, but pyde Iris got
Into great Iunos Chariot,
I spake with one that saw her.

Dorilus. And there the pert and sawcy Elfe,
Behau'd her as twere Iuno's selfe,
And made the Peacocks draw her.

Doron. Ile borrow Phoebus fiery Iades,
With which about the world he trades,
And put them in my Plow.

Dorilus. O thou most perfect frantique man,
Yet let thy rage be what it can,
Ile be as mad as thou.

Doron. Ile to great Iove, hap good, hap ill,
Though he with Thunder threat to kill,
And beg of him a boone.

Dorilus. To swerue vp one of Cynthias beames,
And there to bath thee in the streames.
Discouerd in the Moone.

Doron. Come frolick Youth and follow me,
My frantique boy, and Ile show thee
The Countrey of the Fayries.

Dorilus. The fleshy Mandrake where't doth grow
In noonshade of the Mistletow,
And where the Phoenix Aryes.

Doron. Nay more, the Swallowes winter bed,
The Caverns where the Winds are bred,
Since thus thou talkst of showing.

Dorilus. And to those Indraughts Ile thee bring,
That wondrous and eternall spring
Whence th' Ocean hath its flowing.

Doron. We'll downe to the darke house of sleepe,
Where snoring Morpheus doth keepe,
And wake the drowsy Groome.

Dorilus. Downe shall the Dores and Windowes goe,
The Stooles vpon the Floare we'll throw,
And roare about the Roome.

The Muses here commanded them to stay,
Commending much the caridge of their Lay
As greatly pleasd at this their madding Bout,
To heare how brauely they had borne it out
From first to the last, of which they were right glad,
By this they found that Helicon still had
That vertue it did anciently retaine
When Orpheus Lynus and th' Ascrean Swaine
Tooke lusty Rowses, which hath made their Rimes,
To last so long to all succeeding times.
And now amongst this beauteous Beauie here,
Two wanton Nimphes, though dainty ones they were,
Naijs and Cloe in their female fits
Longing to show the sharpnesse of their wits,
Of the nine Sisters speciall leaue doe craue
That the next Bout they two might freely haue,
Who hauing got the suffrages of all,
Thus to their Rimeing instantly they fall.

Naijs. Amongst you all let us see
Who ist opposes mee,
Come on the proudest she
To answere my dittye.

Cloe. Why Naijs, that am I,
Who dares thy pride defie.
And that we soone shall try
Though thou be witty.

Naijs. Cloe I scorne my Rime
Should obserue feet or time,
Now I fall, then I clime,
Where i'st I dare not.

Cloe. Giue thy Invention wing,
And let her flert and fling,
Till downe the Rocks she ding,
For that I care not.

Naijs. This presence delights me,
My freedome inuites me,
The Season excytes me,
In Rime to be merry.

Cloe. And I beyond measure,
Am rauisht with pleasure,
To answer each Ceasure,
Untill thou beist weary.

Naijs. Behold the Rosye Dawne,
Rises in Tinsild Lawne,
And smiling seemes to fawne,
Vpon the mountaines.

Cloe. Awaked from her Dreames,
Shooting foorth goulden Beames
Dansing vpon the Streames
Courting the Fountaines.

Naijs. These more then sweet Showrets,
Intice vp these Flowrets,
To trim vp our Bowrets,
Perfuming our Coats.

Cloe. Whilst the Birds billing
Each one with his Dilling
The thickets still filling
With Amorous Noets.

Naijs. The Bees vp in hony rould,
More then their thighes can hould,
Lapt in their liquid gould,
Their Treasure vs Bringing.

Cloe. To these Rillets purling
Vpon the stones Curling,
And oft about wherling,
Dance tow'ard their springing.

Naijs. The Wood-Nimphes sit singing,
Each Groue with notes ringing
Whilst fresh Ver is flinging
Her Bounties abroad.

Cloe. So much as the Turtle,
Upon the low Mertle,
To the meads fertle,
Her cares doth unload.

Naijs. Nay 'tis a world to see,
In euery bush and Tree,
The Birds with mirth and glee,
Woo'd as they woe.

Cloe. The Robin and the Wren,
Every Cocke with his Hen,
Why should not we and men,
Doe as they doe.

Naijs. The Faires are hopping,
The small Flowers cropping,
And with dew dropping,
Skip thorow the Greaues.

Cloe. At Barly-breake they play
Merrily all the day,
At night themselues they lay
Vpon the soft leaues.

Naijs. The gentle winds sally,
Vpon every Valley,
And many times dally
And wantonly sport.

Cloe. About the fields tracing,
Each other in chasing,
And often imbracing,
In amorous sort.

Naijs. And Eccho oft doth tell
Wondrous things from her Cell,
As her what chance befell,
Learning to prattle.

Cloe. And now she sits and mocks
The Shepherds and their flocks,
And the Heards from the Rocks
Keeping their Cattle.

When to these Maids the Muses silence cry,
For 'twas the opinion of the Company,
That were not these two taken of, that they
Would in their Conflict wholly spend the day.
When as the Turne to Florimel next came,
A Nimph for Beauty of especiall name,
Yet was she not so Iolly as the rest:
And though she were by her companions prest,
Yet she by no intreaty would be wrought
To sing, as by th' Elizian Lawes she ought:
When two bright Nimphes that her companions were,
And of all other onely held her deare,
Mild Claris and Mertilla, with faire speech
Their most beloued Florimel beseech,
T'obserue the Muses, and the more to wooe her,
They take their turnes, and thus they sing vnto her.

Cloris. Sing, Florimel, O sing, and wee
Our whole wealth will giue to thee,
We'll rob the brim of euery Fountaine,
Strip the sweets from euery Mountaine,
We will sweepe the curled valleys,
Brush the bancks that mound our allyes,
We will muster natures dainties
When she wallowes in her plentyes,
The lushyous smell of euery flower
New washt by an Aprill shower,
The Mistresse of her store we'll make thee
That she for her selfe shall take thee;
Can there be a dainty thing,
That's not thine if thou wilt sing.

Mertilla. When the dew in May distilleth,
And the Earths rich bosome filleth,
And with Pearle embrouds each Meadow,
We will make them like a widow,
And in all their Beauties dresse thee,
And of all their spoiles possesse thee,
With all the bounties Zephyre brings,
Breathing on the yearely springs,
The gaudy bloomes of euery Tree
In their most beauty when they be,
What is here that may delight thee,
Or to pleasure may excite thee,
Can there be a dainty thing
That's not thine if thou wilt sing.

But Florimel still sullenly replyes
I will not sing at all, let that suffice:
When as a Nimph one of the merry ging
Seeing she no way could be wonne to sing;
Come, come, quoth she, ye vtterly vndoe her
With your intreaties, and your reuerence to her;
For praise nor prayers, she careth not a pin;
They that our froward Florimel would winne,
Must worke another way, let me come to her,
Either Ile make her sing, or Ile vndoe her.

Claia. Florimel I thus coniure thee,
Since their gifts cannot alure thee;
By stampt Garlick, that doth stink
Worse then common Sewer, or Sink,
By Henbane, Dogsbane, Woolfsbane, sweet
As any Clownes or Carriers feet,
By stinging Nettles, pricking Teasels
Raysing blisters like the measels,
By the rough Burbreeding docks,
Rancker then the oldest Fox,
By filthy Hemblock, poysning more
Then any vlcer or old sore,
By the Cockle in the corne,
That smels farre worse then doth burnt horne,
By Hempe in water that hath layne,
By whose stench the Fish are slayne,
By Toadflax which your Nose may tast,
If you haue a minde to cast,
May all filthy stinking Weeds
That e'r bore leafe, or e'r had seeds,
Florimel be giuen to thee,
If thou'lt not sing as well as wee.

At which the Nimphs to open laughter fell,
Amongst the rest the beauteous Florimel,
(Pleasd with the spell from Claia that came,
A mirthfull Gerle and giuen to sport and game)
As gamesome growes as any of them all,
And to this ditty instantly doth fall.

Florimel. How in my thoughts should I contriue
The Image I am framing,
Which is so farre superlatiue,
As tis beyond all naming;
I would Ioue of my counsell make,
And haue his judgement in it,
But that I doubt he would mistake
How rightly to begin it,
It must be builded in the Ayre,
And tis my thoughts must doo it,
And onely they must be the stayre
From earth to mount me to it,
For of my Sex I frame my Lay,
Each houre, our selues forsaking,
How should I then finde out the way
To this my vndertaking,
When our weake Fancies working still,
Yet changing every minnit,
Will shew that it requires some skill,
Such difficulty's in it.
We would things, yet we know not what,
And let our will be granted,
Yet instantly we finde in that
Something vnthought of wanted:
Our ioyes and hopes such shadowes are,
As with our motions varry,
Which when we oft haue fetcht from farre,
With us they neuer tarry:
Some worldly crosse doth still attend,
What long we haue in spinning,
And e'r we fully get the end
We lose of our beginning.
Our pollicies so peevish are,
That with themselues they wrangle,
And many times become the snare
That soonest vs intangle;
For that the Loue we beare our Friends
Though nere so strongly grounded,
Hath in it certaine oblique ends
If to the bottome sounded:
Our owne well wishing making it,
A pardonable Treason;
For that is deriud from witt,
And vnderpropt with reason.
For our Deare selues beloued sake
(Euen in the depth of passion)
Our Center though our selues we make,
Yet is not that our station;
For whilst our Browes ambitious be
And youth at hand awayts vs,
It is a pretty thing to see
How finely Beautie cheats vs,
And whilst with tyme we tryfling stand
To practise Antique graces
Age with a pale and withered hand
Drawes Furowes in our faces.

When they which so desirous were before
To hear her sing; desirous are far more
To haue her cease; and call to haue her stayd
For she to much alredy had bewray'd.
And as the thrice three Sisters thus had grac'd
Their Celebration, and themselues had plac'd
Vpon a Violet banck, in order all
Where they at will might view the Festifall
The Nimphs and all the lusty youth that were
At this braue Nimphall, by them honored there,
To Gratifie the heauenly Gerles againe
Lastly prepare in state to entertaine
Those sacred Sisters, fairely and confer,
On each of them, their prayse particular
And thus the Nimphes to the nine Muses sung.
When as the Youth and Forresters among
That well prepared for this businesse were,
Become the Chorus, and thus sung they there.

Nimphes. Clio then first of those Celestiall nine
That daily offer to the sacred shryne,
Of wise Apollo; Queene of Stories,
Thou that vindicat'st the glories
Of passed ages, and renewst
Their acts which euery day thou viewst,
And from a lethargy dost keepe
Old nodding time, else prone to sleepe.

Chorus. Clio O craue of Phoebus to inspire
Vs, for his Altars with his holiest fire,
And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes
Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes.

Nimphes. Melpomine thou melancholly Maid
Next, to wise Phoebus we inuoke thy ayd,
In Buskins that dost stride the Stage,
And in thy deepe distracted rage,
In blood-shed that dost take delight,
Thy obiect the most fearfull sight,
That louest the sighes, the shreekes, and sounds
Of horrors, that arise from wounds.

Chorus. Sad Muse, O craue of Phoebus to inspire
Vs for his Altars, with his holiest fire,
And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes
Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes.

Nimphes. Comick Thalia then we come to thee,
Thou mirthfull Mayden, onely that in glee
And loues deceits, thy pleasure tak'st,
Of which thy varying Scene that mak'st
And in thy nimble Sock do'st stirre
Loude laughter through the Theater,
That with the Peasant mak'st the sport,
As well as with the better sort.

Chorus. Thalia craue of Phoebus to inspire
Vs for his Alters with his holyest fier;
And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes
Giue life, and growth to our Elizian Bayes.

Nimphes. Euterpe next to thee we will proceed,
That first sound'st out the Musick on the Reed,
With breath and fingers giu'ng life,
To the shrill Cornet and the Fyfe.
Teaching euery stop and kaye,
To those vpon the Pipe that playe,
Those which Wind-Instruments we call
Or soft, or lowd, or greate, or small,

Chorus. Euterpe aske of Phebus to inspire,
Vs for his Alters with his holyest fire
And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes
Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes.

Nimphes. Terpsichore that of the Lute and Lyre,
And Instruments that sound with Cords and wyere,
That art the Mistres, to commaund
The touch of the most Curious hand,
When euery Quauer doth Imbrace
His like in a true Diapase,
And euery string his sound doth fill
Toucht with the Finger or the Quill.

Chorus. Terpsichore, craue Phebus to inspire
Vs for his Alters with his holyest fier
And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes
Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes.

Nimphes. Then Erato wise muse on thee we call,
In Lynes to vs that do'st demonstrate all,
Which neatly, with thy staffe and Bowe,
Do'st measure, and proportion showe;
Motion and Gesture that dost teach
That euery height and depth canst reach,
And do'st demonstrate by thy Art
What nature else would not Impart.

Chorus. Deare Erato craue Phebus to inspire
Vs for his Alters with his holyest fire,
And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes,
Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes.

Nimphes. To thee then braue Caliope we come
Thou that maintain'st, the Trumpet, and the Drum;
The neighing Steed that louest to heare,
Clashing of Armes doth please thine eare,
In lofty Lines that do'st rehearse
Things worthy of a thundring verse,
And at no tyme are heard to straine,
On ought that suits a Common vayne.

Chorus. Caliope, craue Phebus to inspire,
Vs for his Alters with his holyest fier,
And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes,
Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes.

Nimphes. Then Polyhymnia most delicious Mayd,
In Rhetoricks Flowers that art arayd,
In Tropes and Figures, richly drest,
The Fyled Phrase that louest best,
That art all Elocution, and
The first that gau'st to vnderstand
The force of wordes in order plac'd
And with a sweet deliuery grac'd.

Chorus. Sweet Muse perswade our Phoebus to inspire
Vs for his Altars, with his holiest fire,
And let his glorious euer shining Rayes
Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes.

Nimphes. Lofty Vrania then we call to thee,
To whom the Heauens for euer opened be,
Thou th' Asterismes by name dost call,
And shewst when they doe rise and fall
Each Planets force, and dost diuine
His working, seated in his Signe,
And how the starry Frame still roules
Betwixt the fixed stedfast Poles.

Chorus. Vrania aske of Phoebus to inspire
Vs for his Altars with his holiest fire,
And let his glorious euer-shining Rayes
Giue life and growth to our Elizian Bayes.

The fourth Nimphall


Chaste Cloris doth disclose the shames
Of the Felician frantique Dames,
Mertilla striues t' apease her woe,
To golden wishes then they goe.

Mertilla. Why how now Cloris, what, thy head
Bound with forsaken Willow?
Is the cold ground become thy bed?
The grasse become thy Pillow?
O let not those life-lightning eyes
In this sad vayle be shrowded,
Which into mourning puts the Skyes,
To see them ouer-clowded.

Cloris. O my Mertilla doe not praise
These Lampes so dimly burning,
Such sad and sullen lights as these
Were onely made for mourning:
Their obiects are the barren Rocks
With aged Mosse o'r shaded;
Now whilst the Spring layes forth her Locks
With blossomes brauely braded.

Mertilla. O Cloris, Can there be a Spring,
O my deare Nimph, there may not,
Wanting thine eyes it forth to bring,
Without which Nature cannot:
Say what it is that troubleth thee
Encreast by thy concealing,
Speake; sorrowes many times we see
Are lesned by reuealing.

Cloris. Being of late too vainely bent
And but at too much leisure;
Not with our Groves and Downes content,
But surfetting in pleasure;
Felicia's Fields I would goe see,
Where fame to me reported,
The choyce Nimphes of the world to be
From meaner beauties sorted;
Hoping that I from them might draw
Some graces to delight me,
But there such monstrous shapes I saw,
That to this houre affright me.
Throw the thick Hayre, that thatch'd their Browes,
Their eyes vpon me stared,
Like to those raging frantique Froes
For Bacchus Feasts prepared:
Their Bodies, although straight by kinde,
Yet they so monstrous make them,
That for huge Bags blowne vp with wind,
You very well may take them.
Their Bowels in their Elbowes are,
Whereon depend their Panches,
And their deformed Armes by farre
Made larger than their Hanches:
For their behauiour and their grace,
Which likewise should haue priz'd them,
Their manners were as beastly base
As th' rags that so disguisd them;
All Anticks, all so impudent,
So fashon'd out of fashion,
As blacke Cocytus vp had sent
Her Fry into this nation,
Whose monstrousnesse doth so perplex,
Of Reason and depriues me,
That for their sakes I loath my sex,
Which to this sadnesse driues me.

Mertilla. O my deare Cloris be not sad,
Nor with these Furies danted,
But let these female fooles be mad,
With Hellish pride inchanted;
Let not thy noble thoughts descend
So low as their affections;
Whom neither counsell can amend,
Nor yet the Gods corrections:
Such mad folks ne'r let vs bemoane,
But rather scorne their folly,
And since we two are here alone,
To banish melancholly,
Leaue we this lowly creeping vayne
Not worthy admiration,
And in a braue and lofty strayne,
Lets exercise our passion,
With wishes of each others good,
From our abundant treasures,
And in this iocund sprightly mood:
Thus alter we our measures.

Mertilla. O I could wish this place were strewd with Roses,
And that this Banck were thickly thrumd with Grasse
As soft as Sleaue, or Sarcenet euer was,
Whereon my Cloris her sweet selfe reposes.

Cloris. O that these Dewes Rosewater were for thee,
These Mists Perfumes that hang vpon these thicks,
And that the Winds were all Aromaticks,
Which, if my wish could make them, they should bee.

Mertilla. O that my Bottle one whole Diamond were,
So fild with Nectar that a Flye might sup,
And at one draught that thou mightst drinke it vp,
Yet a Carouse not good enough I feare.

Cloris. That all the Pearle, the Seas, or Indias haue
Were well dissolu'd, and thereof made a Lake,
Thou there in bathing, and I by to take
Pleasure to see thee cleerer than the Waue.

Mertilla. O that the Hornes of all the Heards we see,
Were of fine gold, or else that euery horne
Were like to that one of the Vnicorne,
And of all these, not one but were thy Fee.

Cloris. O that their Hooues were Iuory, or some thing,
Then the pur'st Iuory farre more Christalline,
Fild with the food wherewith the Gods doe dine,
To keepe thy Youth in a continuall Spring.

Mertilla. O that the sweets of all the Flowers that grow,
The labouring ayre would gather into one,
In Gardens, Fields, nor Meadowes leauing none,
And all their Sweetnesse vpon thee would throw.

Cloris. Nay that those sweet harmonious straines we heare,
Amongst the liuely Birds melodious Layes,
As they recording sit vpon the Sprayes,
Were houering still for Musick at thine eare.

Mertilla. O that thy name were caru'd on euery Tree,
That as these plants still great, and greater grow,
Thy name deare Nimph might be enlarged so,
That euery Groue and Coppis might speake thee.

Cloris. Nay would thy name vpon their Rynds were set,
And by the Nimphes so oft and lowdly spoken,
As that the Ecchoes to that language broken
Thy happy name might hourely counterfet.

Mertilla. O let the Spring still put sterne winter by,
And in rich Damaske let her Reuell still,
As it should doe if I might haue my will,
That thou mightst still walke on her Tapistry;
And thus since Fate no longer time alowes
Vnder this broad and shady Sicamore,
Where now we sit, as we haue oft before;
Those yet vnborne shall offer vp their Vowes.

The fift Nimphall


Of Garlands, Anadems, and Wreathes,
This Nimphall nought but sweetnesse breathes,
Presents you with delicious Posies,
And with powerfull Simples closes.

Claia. See where old Clarinax is set,
His sundry Simples sorting,
From whose experience we may get
What worthy is reporting.
Then Lelipa let vs draw neere,
Whilst he his weedes is weathering,
I see some powerfull Simples there
That he hath late bin gathering.
Hail gentle Hermit, Iove thee speed,
And haue thee in his keeping,
And euer helpe thee at thy need,
Be thou awake or sleeping.

Clarinax. Ye payre of most Celestiall lights,
O Beauties three times burnisht,
Who could expect such heauenly wights
With Angels features furnisht;
What God doth guide you to this place,
To blesse my homely Bower?
It cannot be but this high grace
Proceeds from some high power;
The houres like hand-maids still attend,
Disposed at your pleasure,
Ordayned to noe other end
But to awaite your leasure;
The Deawes drawne vp into the Aer,
And by your breathes perfumed,
In little Clouds doe houer there
As loath to be consumed:
The Aer moues not but as you please,
So much sweet Nimphes it owes you,
The winds doe cast them to their ease,
And amorously inclose you.

Lelipa. Be not too lauish of thy praise,
Thou good Elizian Hermit,
Lest some to heare such words as these,
Perhaps may flattery tearme it;
But of your Simples something say,
Which may discourse affoord vs,
We know your knowledge lyes that way,
With subiects you haue stor'd vs.

Claia. We know for Physick yours you get,
Which thus you heere are sorting,
And vpon garlands we are set,
With Wreathes and Posyes sporting:

Lelipa. The Chaplet and the Anadem,
The curled Tresses crowning,
We looser Nimphes delight in them,
Not in your Wreathes renowning.

Clarinax. The Garland long agoe was worne,
As Time pleased to bestow it,
The Lawrell onely to adorne
The Conquerer and the Poet.
The Palme his due, who vncontrould,
On danger looking grauely,
When Fate had done the worst it could,
Who bore his Fortunes brauely.
Most worthy of the Oken Wreath
The Ancients him esteemed,
Who in a Battle had from death
Some man of worth redeemed.
About his temples Grasse they tye,
Himselfe that so behaued
In some strong Seedge by th' Enemy,
A City that hath saued.
A Wreath of Vervaine Herhauts weare,
Amongst our Garlands named,
Being sent that dreadfull newes to beare,
Offensiue warre proclaimed.
The Signe of Peace who first displayes,
The Oliue Wreath possesses:
The Louer with the Myrtle Sprayes
Adornes his crisped Tresses.
In Loue the sad forsaken wight
The Willow Garland weareth:
The Funerall man befitting night,
The balefull Cipresse beareth.
To Pan we dedicate the Pine,
Whose Slips the Shepherd graceth:
Againe the Ivie and the Vine
On his, swolne Bacchus placeth.

Claia. The Boughes and Sprayes, of which you tell,
By you are rightly named,
But we with those of pretious smell
And colours are enflamed;
The noble Ancients to excite
Men to doe things worth crowning,
Not vnperformed left a Rite,
To heighten their renowning:
But they that those rewards deuis'd,
And those braue wights that wore them
By these base times, though poorely priz'd,
Yet Hermit we adore them.
The store of euery fruitfull Field
We Nimphes at will possessing,
From that variety they yeeld
Get flowers for euery dressing:
Of which a Garland Ile compose,
Then busily attend me.
These flowers I for that purpose chose,
But where I misse amend me.

Clarinax. Well Claia on with your intent,
Lets see how you will weaue it,
Which done, here for a monument
I hope with me, you'll leaue it.

Claia. Here Damaske Roses, white and red,
Out of my lap first take I,
Which still shall runne along the thred,
My chiefest Flower this make I:
Amongst these Roses in a row,
Next place I Pinks in plenty,
These double Daysyes then for show,
And will not this be dainty.
The pretty Pansy then Ile tye
Like Stones some Chaine inchasing,
And next to them their neere Alye,
The purple Violet placing.
The curious choyce, Clove Iuly-flower,
Whose kinds hight the Carnation
For sweetnesse of most soueraine power
Shall helpe my Wreath to fashion.
Whose sundry cullers of one kinde
First from one Root derived,
Them in their seuerall sutes Ile binde,
My Garland so contriued;
A course of Cowslips then I'll stick,
And here and there though sparely
The pleasant Primrose downe Ile prick
Like Pearles, which will show rarely:
Then with these Marygolds Ile make
My Garland somewhat swelling,
These Honysuckles then Ile take,
Whose sweets shall helpe their smelling:
The Lilly and the Flower delice,
For colour much contenting,
For that, I them doe only prize,
They are but pore in senting:
The Daffadill most dainty is
To match with these in meetnesse;
The Columbyne compar'd to this,
All much alike for sweetnesse.
These in their natures onely are
Fit to embosse the border,
Therefore Ile take especiall care
To place them in their order:
Sweet-Williams, Campions, Sops-in-Wine
One by another neatly:
Thus haue I made this Wreath of mine,
And finished it featly.

Lelipa. Your Garland thus you finisht haue,
Then as we haue attended
Your leasure, likewise let me craue
I may the like be friended.
Those gaudy garish Flowers you chuse,
In which our Nimphes are flaunting,
Which they at Feasts and Brydals vse,
The sight and smell inchanting:
A Chaplet me of Hearbs Ile make
Then which though yours be brauer,
Yet this of myne I'le vndertake
Shall not be short in fauour.
With Basill then I will begin,
Whose scent is wondrous pleasing,
This Eglantine I'le next put in,
The sense with sweetnes seasing.
Then in my Lauender I'le lay,
Muscado put among it,
And here and there a leafe of Bay,
Which still shall runne along it.
Germander, Marieram, and Tyme
Which vsed are for strewing,
With Hisop as an hearbe most pryme
Here in my wreath bestowing.
Then Balme and Mynt helps to make vp
My Chaplet, and for Tryall,
Costmary that so likes the Cup,
And next it Penieryall
Then Burnet shall beare vp with this
Whose leafe I greatly fansy,
Some Camomile doth not amisse,
With Sauory and some Tansy,
Then heere and there I'le put a sprig
Of Rosemary into it
Thus not too little or too big
Tis done if I can doe it.

Clarinax. Claia your Garland is most gaye,
Compos'd of curious Flowers,
And so most louely Lelipa,
This Chaplet is of yours,
In goodly Gardens yours you get
Where you your laps haue laded;
My symples are by Nature set,
In Groues and Fields vntraded.
Your Flowers most curiously you twyne,
Each one his place supplying.
But these rough harsher Hearbs of mine,
About me rudely lying,
Of which some dwarfish Weeds there be,
Some of a larger stature,
Some by experience as we see,
Whose names expresse their nature,
Heere is my Moly of much fame,
In Magicks often vsed,
Mugwort and Night-shade for the same
But not by me abused;
Here Henbane, Popy, Hemblock here,
Procuring Deadly sleeping,
Which I doe minister with Feare,
Not fit for each mans keeping.
Heere holy Veruayne, and heere Dill,
Against witchcraft much auailing.
Here Horhound gainst the Mad dogs ill
By biting, neuer failing.
Here Mandrake that procureth loue,
In poysning philters mixed,
And makes the Barren fruitfull proue,
The Root about them fixed.
Inchaunting Lunary here lyes
In Sorceries excelling,
And this is Dictam, which we prize
Shot shafts and Darts expelling,
Here Saxifrage against the stone
That Powerfull is approued,
Here Dodder by whose helpe alone,
Ould Agues are remoued
Here Mercury, here Helibore,
Ould Vlcers mundifying,
And Shepheards-Purse the Flux most sore,
That helpes by the applying;
Here wholsome Plantane, that the payne
Of Eyes and Eares appeases;
Here cooling Sorrell that againe
We vse in hot diseases:
The medcinable Mallow here,
Asswaging sudaine Tumors,
The iagged Polypodium there,
To purge ould rotten humors,
Next these here Egremony is,
That helpes the Serpents byting,
The blessed Betony by this,
Whose cures deseruen writing:
This All-heale, and so nam'd of right,
New wounds so quickly healing,
A thousand more I could recyte,
Most worthy of Reuealing,
But that I hindred am by Fate,
And busnesse doth preuent me,
To cure a mad man, which of late
Is from Felicia sent me.

Claia. Nay then thou hast inough to doe,
We pity thy enduring,
For they are there infected soe,
That they are past thy curing.

The sixt Nimphall


A Woodman, Fisher, and a Swaine
This Nimphall through with mirth maintaine,
Whose pleadings so the Nimphes doe please,
That presently they giue them Bayes.

Cleere had the day bin from the dawne,
All chequerd was the Skye,
Thin Clouds like Scarfs of Cobweb Lawne
Vayld Heauen's most glorious eye.
The Winde had no more strength then this,
That leasurely it blew,
To make one leafe the next to kisse,
That closly by it grew.
The Rils that on the Pebbles playd,
Might now be heard at will;
This world they onely Musick made,
Else euerything was still.
The Flowers like braue embraudred Gerles,
Lookt as they much desired,
To see whose head with orient Pearles,
Most curiously was tyred;
And to it selfe the subtle Ayre,
Such souerainty assumes,
That it receiu'd too large a share
From natures rich perfumes.
When the Elizian Youth were met,
That were of most account,
And to disport themselues were set
Vpon an easy Mount:
Neare which, of stately Firre and Pine
There grew abundant store,
The Tree that weepeth Turpentine,
And shady Sicamore.
Amongst this merry youthfull trayne
A Forrester they had,
A Fisher, and a Shepheards swayne
A liuely Countrey Lad:
Betwixt which three a question grew,
Who should the worthiest be,
Which violently they pursue,
Nor stickled would they be.
That it the Company doth please
This ciuill strife to stay,
Freely to heare what each of these
For his braue selfe could say:
When first this Forrester (of all)
That Silvius had to name,
To whom the Lot being cast doth fall,
Doth thus begin the Game.

Silvius. For my profession then, and for the life I lead,
All others to excell, thus for my selfe I plead;
I am the Prince of sports, the Forrest is my Fee,
He's not vpon the Earth for pleasure liues like me;
The Morne no sooner puts her rosye Mantle on,
But from my quyet Lodge I instantly am gone,
When the melodious Birds from euery Bush and Bryer,
Of the wilde spacious Wasts, make a continuall quire;
The motlied Meadowes then, new vernisht with the Sunne
Shute vp their spicy sweets vpon the winds that runne,
In easly ambling Gales, and softly seeme to pace,
That it the longer might their lushiousnesse imbrace:
I am clad in youthfull Greene, I other colour, scorne,
My silken Bauldrick beares my Beugle, or my Horne,
Which setting to my Lips, I winde so lowd and shrill,
As makes the Ecchoes showte from euery neighbouring Hill:
My Doghooke at my Belt, to which my Lyam's tyde,
My Sheafe of Arrowes by, my Woodknife at my Syde,
My Crosse-bow in my Hand, my Gaffle or my Rack
To bend it when I please, or it I list to slack,
My Hound then in my Lyam, I by the Woodmans art
Forecast, where I may lodge the goodly Hie-palm'd Hart,
To viewe the grazing Heards, so sundry times I vse,
Where by the loftiest Head I know my Deare to chuse,
And to vnheard him then, I gallop o'r the ground
Vpon my wel-breath'd Nag, to cheere my earning Hound.
Sometime I pitch my Toyles the Deare aliue to take,
Sometime I like the Cry, the deep-mouth'd Kennell make,
Then vnderneath my Horse, I staulke my game to strike,
And with a single Dog to hunt him hurt, I like.
The Siluians are to me true subiects, I their King,
The stately Hart, his Hind doth to my presence bring,
The Buck his loued Doe, the Roe his tripping Mate,
Before me to my Bower, whereas I sit in State.
The Dryads, Hamadryads, the Satyres and the Fawnes
Oft play at Hyde and Seeke before me on the Lawnes,
The frisking Fayry oft when horned Cinthia shines
Before me as I walke dance wanton Matachynes,
The numerous feathered flocks that the wild Forrests haunt
Their Siluan songs to me, in cheerefull dittyes chaunte,
The Shades like ample Sheelds, defend me from the Sunne,
Through which me to refresh the gentle Riuelets runne,
No little bubling Brook from any Spring that falls
But on the Pebbles playes me pretty Madrigals.
I' th' morne I clime the Hills, where wholsome winds do blow,
At Noone-tyde to the Vales, and shady Groues below,
T'wards Euening I againe the Chrystall Floods frequent,
In pleasure thus my life continually is spent.
As Princes and great Lords haue Pallaces, so I
Haue in the Forrests here, my Hall and Gallery
The tall and stately Woods, which vnderneath are Plaine,
The Groues my Gardens are, the Heath and Downes againe
My wide and spacious walkes, then say all what ye can,
The Forrester is still your only gallant man.

He of his speech scarce made an end,
But him they load with prayse,
The Nimphes most highly him commend,
And vow to giue him Bayes:
He's now cryde vp of euery one,
And who but onely he,
The Forrester's the man alone,
The worthyest of the three.
When some then th' other farre more stayd,
Wil'd them a while to pause,
For there was more yet to be sayd,
That might deserve applause,
When Halcius his turne next plyes,
And silence hauing wonne,
Roome for the fisher man he cryes,
And thus his Plea begunne.

Halcius. No Forrester, it so must not be borne away,
But heare wha

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'The Mvses Elizivm' by Michael Drayton

comments powered by Disqus