Upon Bellama's walking in the garden, and with him.
My teeming fancy strives, choice fair, to chain
Eternity to time, that ne'er shall wane;
And make those garden-minutes see the sun
Entombed in darkness, and the earth unspun
Ere they expire, that all succeeding times
May know and tell the subject of these rhymes.
Assist me, Flora, that I may with grace
1180Worthy its honour, shadow forth that place
Of spreading trees, sweet herbs, and fragrant flowers,
Enriched with pleasing walks and shady bowers.
Each twig, with amorous touch, embraced his mate,
Like Bacchus' sacred tree his propping state;
Or ivy, elm, that neither sun nor wind
To his retirèd conclaves passage find.
Within whose walls a half-night's darkness dwells,
Which satyrs' growing palaces excels,
Or anchorets' secluding hermitage.
1190Here, like a common theatre or stage,
Each spicèd child of earth, in summer robe
And Iris' mantle, opes his closèd globe,
Knows his appearing cue, and freely plays
O' th' wished-for presence of your quick'ning rays.
Such perfect vivifying influence
Dwells in your looks, Light's chariot driven hence,
That your sole presence can create a spring,
From winter's frozen bands can loose each thing,
From earth's entombing sepulchre can raise
[1200]Each sleeping flow'r, to chant forth Maia's praise.
This made amazement seize my mind to view
Half-agèd winter bid so soon adieu
To this Elysium of the pagans' joy.
And Chloris, with her new-brush'd clothes so coy
Before, and hardly to be won, come forth
Crowned with the glory of her springing worth,
To court our eyes, nay more, the bare-faced earth
Covered with carpets green, befringèd round
With smiling rosy trees, with glorious store
1210Of daisies, suckles, cowslips, studded o'er.
Like hunting vests of satonisco green,
Embossed with gems by fawns and wood-nymphs' queen,
Worn when the tushèd boar, bear, panting hart
Th' unkennel, rouse, disfrank with nimble art.
And, lest your spotless souls should suffer ill,
Air's fleeting tuns crystalline streams distil,
To wash the grassy-tufted tapestry
Which whistling winds, with murm'rings, haste to dry.
And ev'ry tender branch whereon you tread
1220To make your tracing, pacing, moves its head.
Alcinous' orchard, or that precious root
Which bore old Atlas' daughters golden fruit;
Th' Idalian mount where Cytherea strayed,
Or that where Ceres' luckless daughter played
Whenas the king of shades surprisèd her.
Nor may the Roman's pride with this confer,
For here all Maia's treasures are united
Which do, which shall, or senses e'er delighted,
Yet summered by your eye each flower does bud,
1230Blossoms, sprouts, opens, blooms, and chews the cud.
Your presence hearts them all. O be as kind
As unto them to me; shoot through my rind.
Shine through my heart with one, one smiling ray!
So shall it open, blossom, sprout as they—
Spiced with the choicest sweets e'er Venus had,
In all the postures of true service clad,
Trimmed with the beauties of the richest spring.
All fertile too, all store of fruit shall bring:
This, choice affection; that, chaste loyalty;
1240This, vows; that, service; and that, constancy,
Made up into a nosegay, circled in
With twists of love, which youth and virtue spin.
Then, breath and ray, make and accept the posy
And seal a contract 'twixt the lily and rosy.
Enspherèd thus with virgins, oft he would
Tell pretty tales, fraught with conceited mirth,
Discourse of foreign states sometimes unfold,
(A sudden jest may give to laughter birth.)
Thus to beguile the time, he oft would do,
1250And unsuspected did his lady woo.
Then privately sometimes with her would walk
Along a pavèd way, where lofty trees
Bore only witness of their am'rous talk,
Plaiting their branchèd pride that none might see.
And, lest quick envy should their dalliance spy,
Themselves about the trees the brambles tie.
Here in soft whispers did he court her love,
And strove by oath their loves to ratify.
'Madam,' says he, 'this reason may you move,
1260That day and malice have too many eyes
When my lips are sealed, and I attempt in vain
To send the children of my teeming brain.
Not half so vigilant the dragon was,
Which Colchos' treasure watch'd, as is your dame;
So that they must through Argus headpiece pass
Which seek here to enkindle Cupid's flame.
I know your jealous matron does discover
How my faint heart about your breast does hover.'
'Sir,' says Bellama, 'there is no such haste.
1270Time will appoint our loves some fitter seasons,
My father must ungirdle first my waist,
Love will not be repelled by force, but reasons:
And more, you know it is in vain to strive,
Here's no escaping this monastic hive.
When as the third day's sun, three hours or more,
Our zenith has behind him left, hither
Return, and I will meet thee; not before'.
'My thoughts', quoth he, 'do in your absence wither,
Pinched with the sharpest blasts cold winter breathes,
1280But your, your looks, my heart with blossoms wreathes.
That foolish glass, which measures time with sand,
Enough of gravel has to meet a year.
With lesser trouble I could Hermes' wand,
Than the sad torture of your absence, bear:
Change then those hours to minutes, days to day;
If you say't shall be so time must obey.'
'Alas,' quoth she, 'my faith is not so strong,
To think reality with language dwells,
Nor can I think you count those minutes long
1290When you're employèd with your beads and bells.
Yet t' has the face of truth: I'll therefore try
If time will pay such duty to mine eye.'
'These words have lent my body a new soul,
And shot', quoth he, 'a fire through every vein;
Doubt not your voice time's circle can control,
And make the sun his hasty jennets rein.
Nay more, methinks m' enlight'ned eyes discover
'Bout you the gods with veilèd bonnets hover.
I'm half-persuaded 'twas not blasphemy
[1300]For me to say your nod can ravel Fate;
Thaw into chaos this firm globe of dry;
Beckon the planets; and their tow'rs unslate.
Methinks I see the sun nailed to his sky,
Unnath his car, and throw his whipstaff by.'
'Peace, peace,' quoth she, 'Albino! thou dost rave,
Why dwells such language on thy wretching tongue?
Wilt thou just vengeance force to dig thy grave?
Think'st thou stern Fate will suffer such a wrong?
Pinion thy words; let them not soar so high,
1310Lest they should gash the clouds and ope the sky
We must not play with sharps, nor kiss the flame,
Dally with heaven, or upbraid the gods,
Lest their just anger make their powers tame
Such saucy scandals with their plagues and rods.
Then wing no more Bellama's name, but let
The pearl be callèd pearl, the jet but jet.
Go home in clouds, lest Envy see thy face;
And come not till those minutes task the watch.'
'Madam,' says he, 'I'll bid them mend their pace.
1320'Tis just with lovers every hair to catch
That dights occasion's brow, change date for date,
Entrench sometimes upon the rights of Fate.
Yet your command shall stand, I'll not transgress,
But watch the hand until it joint the hour,
And all my paths with gloomy shades will dress,
That undiscovered I may win this bow'r.
May all the blessings which a lover's voice
Breathes on his lady wait on you, my choice.'
Here did they meet to rivet fast their heart,
1330Where not a breath their private joys disturb;
They thought no eye a saucy ray durst dart,
Or any voice had power their loves to curb.
So credulous are lovers, and so fain
To their conjectures would conclusum's chain.
But this bright sun of joy eclipsèd was,
And pitchy clouds their glorious sky did smutch:
Then Venus' joys were like to Venice glass,
Poor glass-like toys that perish with a touch.
A guardian's anger, or a parent's frown,
1340Nips love's fresh blossoms and a wish uncrown.
The jealous matron, from her tow'ring loft,
O'erlooked th' ambitious trees which hemmed them in;
O'erheard their vows, their sighs, and language soft;
And saw how Cupid leapt from skin to skin,
The traffic of their lips, and how thin balms
Did glue and cement fast their melting palms.
When she perceived the progress of their love,
Religious care empanelled straight a jury
Of thoughts and plots, this stranger to remove,
1350Soothèd with profit, and enflamed with fury,
Ush'ring her language with a threat'ning frown,
She asked her business with that shavèd crown.
Why was that sickly voice whose feeble gales
Can raise no echoes, hand- and elbow-chat,
Eye-dialogue's discourse, and wanton tales,
That way of am'rousness and this, and that?
'Speak truth, Bellama, has thy heart, as voice,
Decreed that youthful monk thine only choice?'
Bellama, startled at this sudden news,
1360Yet did her answers all consist of noes;
But yet, alas! her blood observed the cues,
And called by guilt, her lily banks o'erflows:
So that, though she with settled vows denied,
Yet to the eye her blushes guilty cried.
When as the matron's busy eyes had read
Love on her cheeks in bloody letters writ,
She asked her why blind folly thus had led
Her reason 'gainst religion, state, or wit?
Or, if she needs must love, why did she scowl
1370Upon state-satins, and embrace a cowl?
Bellama to excuses tuned her air,
Framing pretences for her amorous faith,
But yet, alas! such was Pazzella's care,
From her excuses she withheld her faith.
And, with a voice shrill and as fierce as thunder,
Sware she would knap their silly loves in sunder.
Those scarlet gowns which doom offenders' death,
Or the proscriptions of the Roman state,
Had not the tithe of that affrighting breath,
1380Although they weak'ned hell and threat'ned Fate,
As had these words which feeble love did shiver,
Snap his weak strings, and crack his emptied quiver.
But, all this while, Albino sate with pleasure,
And on his trencher joy and mirth attend;
Nor to delight will he allow a measure,
As at one sitting he his stock would spend.
Nay, if he slept, he dreamed of naught but rings,
Gloves, fans, masks, monkeys, and such pretty things.
And when the time of his approach approached,
1390His eye did travel with the dial's hand,
Then started up to see Don Phoebus coached,
Bade him make haste and at that minute stand,
That this blest day may count more moments' flight
Than could the stout Alcides' genial night.
But oft we see before a sudden dash,
The sun salutes the earth with hottest gleams:
So here, before misfortune's harshest lash,
Joy on Albino shot his choicest beams;
That every thought was crownèd with a star,
[1400]And rid with Venus in her silver car.
Rose out o' th' vault with love and hope adust,
And in conceit fed on his future sweet,
Thinking what most may please, not what's most just.
And with what phrase he should his lady greet:
Vowing, in this full heat of lust and pride,
To try how fast Bellama's girdle's tied.
But as our alchemists do study much,
Spend all their wits and wealth to find that stone
Which baser metals doth engold with touch,
1410(As he which once did awe the Phrygian throne)
And when they long have dreamèd of a mass,
Their silver's turned to tin, their gold to brass.
Just so our amorist, stuffed full with hope,
Came to this walk for his expected treasure,
The crystal casements of his soul did ope
To let in th' object of his joy and pleasure:
But when he thought t' have found his lovely lass,
His love was lady-smocks, his lady grass.
He searched with stricter care each bush and bow'r,
1420Than did the fairy king and Hob his man;
Throwing his eyes into each branchèd tow'r,
And midst the sharp'ned pikes of brambles ran.
Pricked forward with desire, enraged with spite,
And venteth here what love and hate indite.