What shall I doe to shewe my self a man?

It will not be for ought that beawtie can. 128

I kisse, I clap, I feele, I view at will, Yett dead he lyes, not thinking good or ill.

"Unhappie me," quoth shee, "and wilt' not stand?

Com, lett me rubb and chafe it with my hand! 132

Perhaps the sillie worme is labour'd sore, And wearied that it can doe noe more; If it be so, as I am greate a-dread, I wish tenne thousand times that I were dead. 136

How ere it is, no meanes shall want in me, That maie auaile to his recouerie."

Which saide, she tooke and rould it on hir thigh, And when she look't on't, she would weepe and sighe; 140

She dandled it, and dancet it up and doune, Not ceasing till she rais'd it from his swoune.

And then he flue on hir as he were wood, And on hir breeche did hack and foyne a-good; 144

He rub'd, and p.r.i.c.kt, and pierst her to the bones, Digging as farre as eath he might for stones; Now high, now lowe, now stryking shorte and thicke; Now dyuing deepe, he toucht hir to the quicke; 148

Now with a gird he would his course rebate, Straite would he take him to a statlie gate; Plaie while him list, and thrust he neare so hard, Poore pacient Grissill lyeth at hir warde, 152

And giue's, and takes, as blythe and free as Maye, And ere-more meete's him in the midle waye.

On him hir eyes continualy were fixt; With hir eye-beames his melting looke's were mixt, 156

Which, like the Sunne, that twixt two gla.s.ses plaies, From one to th' other cast's rebounding rayes.

He, lyke a starre that, to reguild his beames Sucks-in the influence of Phebus streames, 160

Imbathes the lynes of his descending light In the bright fountaines of hir clearest sight.

She, faire as fairest Planet in the skye, Hir puritie to noe man doeth denye; 164

The verie chamber that enclouds her shine Lookes lyke the pallace of that G.o.d deuine, Who leades the daie about the Zodiake, And euerie euen discends to th'oceane lake; 168

So fierce and feruent is her radiance, Such fyrie stakes she darts at euerie glance As might enflame the icie limmes of age, And make pale death his seignedrie to aswage; 172

To stand and gaze upon her orient lamps, Where Cupid all his chiefest ioyes encamps, And sitts, and playes with euery atomie That in hir Sunne-beames swarme aboundantlie. 176

Thus gazing, and thus striuing, we perseuer: But what so firme that maie continue euer?

"Oh not so fast," my rauisht Mistriss cryes, "Leaste my content, that on thy life relyes, 180

Be brought too-soone from his delightfull seate, And me unwares of hoped bliss defeate.

Together lett us marche unto content, And be consumed with one blandishment." 184

As she prescrib'd so kept we crotchet-time, And euerie stroake in ordre lyke a chyme, Whilst she, that had preseru'd me by hir pittie, Unto our musike fram'd a groaning dittie. 188

"Ala.s.s! ala.s.s! that loue should be a sinne!

Euen now my blisse and sorrowe doeth beginne.

Hould wyde thy lapp, my louelie Danae, And entretaine the golden shoure so free, 192

That trikling falles into thy treasurie.

As Aprill-drops not half so pleasant be, Nor Nilus overflowe to aegipt plaines As this sweet-streames that all hir ioints imbaynes. 196

With "Oh!" and "Oh!" she itching moues hir hipps, And to and fro full lightlie starts and skips: She ierkes hir leggs, and sprauleth with hir heeles; No tongue maie tell the solace that she feeles, 200

"I faint! I yeald! Oh, death! rock me a-sleepe!

Sleepe! sleepe desire! entombed in the deepe!"

"Not so, my deare," my dearest saint replyde, "For, from us yett, thy spirit maie not glide 204

Untill the sinnowie channels of our blood Without their source from this imprisoned flood; And then will we (that then will com too soone), Dissolued lye, as though our dayes were donne." 208

The whilst I speake, my soule is fleeting hence, And life forsakes his fleshie residence.

Staie, staie sweete ioye, and leaue me not forlorne Why shouldst thou fade that art but newelie borne? 212

"Staie but an houre, an houre is not so much: But half an houre; if that thy haste is such, Naie, but a quarter--I will aske no more-- That thy departure (which torments me sore), 216

Maie be alightned with a little pause, And take awaie this pa.s.sions sudden cause."

He heare's me not; hard-harted as he is, He is the sonne of Time, and hates my blisse. 220

Time nere looke's backe, the riuers nere returne; A second springe must help me or I burne.

No, no, the well is drye that should refresh me, The gla.s.se is runne of all my destinie: 224

Nature of winter learneth nigardize Who, as he ouer-beares the streame with ice That man nor beaste maie of their pleasance taste, So shutts she up hir conduit all in haste, 228

And will not let hir Nectar ouer-flowe, Least mortall man immortall ioyes should knowe.

Adieu! unconstant loue, to thy disporte Adieu! false mirth, and melodie too short; 232

Adieu! faint-hearted instrument of l.u.s.t; That falselie hath betrayde our equale trust.

Hence-forth no more will I implore thine ayde, Or thee, or man of cowardize upbrayde. 236

My little dilldo shall suply their kinde: A knaue, that moues as light as leaues by winde; That bendeth not, nor fouldeth anie deale, But stands as stiff as he were made of steele; 240

And playes at peac.o.c.k twixt my leggs right blythe, And doeth my tickling swage with manie a sighe.

For, by saint Runnion! he'le refresh me well; And neuer make my tender bellie swell. 244

Poore Priapus! whose triumph now must falle, Except thou thrust this weakeling to the walle.

Behould! how he usurps, in bed and bowre And undermines thy kingdom euerie howre; 248

How slye he creepes betwixt the barke and tree, And sucks the sap, whilst sleepe detaineth thee.

He is my Mistris page at euerie stound, And soone will tent a deepe intrenched wound. 252

He wayte's on Courtlie Nimphs that be so coye, And bids them skorne the blynd-alluring boye.

He giues yong guirls their gamesome sustenance, And euerie gaping mouth his full sufficeance. 256

He fortifies disdaine with forraine artes, And wanton-chaste deludes all loving hartes.

If anie wight a cruell mistris serue's, Or, in dispaire, (unhappie) pines and staru's, 260

Curse Eunuke dilldo, senceless counterfet Who sooth maie fill, but never can begett.

But, if revenge enraged with dispaire, That such a dwarf his wellfare should empaire, 264

Would faine this womans secretarie knowe, Lett him attend the markes that I shall showe: He is a youth almost two handfulls highe, Streight, round, and plumb, yett hauing but one eye, 268

Wherein the rhewme so feruentlie doeth raigne, That Stigian gulph maie scarce his teares containe; Attired in white veluet, or in silk, And nourisht with whott water, or with milk, 272