Lyr. And I thy mother nimphe, as may bee seene
By coulours that I weare, blew, white, & greene;
For nimphes ar of the sea, & sea is right
Of colour truly greene & blew & white;
Would you knowe how, I pray? Billowes are blew,
Water is greene, & foome is white of hue.
Cep. Wee both bidd the, Narcisse, our dearest child, 150
With count'nance sober, modest lookes & milde,
To prophett's wisest woords with tention harken; F. 79r rev. But Sunne is gonne & welkin gins to darken,
Vulcan the weary horses is a shooinge,
While Phebus with queene Thetis is a doinge:
Prophett comes not, letts goe both all & some,
Wee may goe home like fooles as wee did come.
Lyr. O stay deare husband, flowe not away bright water,
The prophett will come by sooner or later.
Cep. Why stand wee heere, as it were cappes a thrumming, 160
To look for prophett? Prophett is not comminge.
Nar. Sweete running river which Cephisus hight,
Whose water is so cleare, whose waves so bright,
Gold is thy sand and christall is thy current,
Thy brooke so cleare that no vile wind dare stirre in't;
Thou art my father, & thou, sweetest nimphe,
Thou art my mother, I thy sonne, thy shrimpe.
Agree you in one point, to goe or tarrye,
Narcissus must obey, aye, must hee, marye.
Cep. Gush, water, gush! runne, river, from thy channell! 170
Thou hast a sonne more lovinge then a spanniell;
With watry eyes I see how tis expedient
To have a sonne so wise & so obedient.
Most beauteous sonne, yet not indeede so beautifull
As thou art mannerly & dutifull!
Lyr. See, husband, see, O see where prophett blind
In twice good time is comming heere behind.
Cep. O heere hee is, and now that hee's come nye vs,
Lye close, good wife & sonne, least hee espye vs.
Enter Tyresias.
F. 78v rev.All you that see mee heere in byshoppes rochett, 180
And I see not, your heads may runne on crotchett,
For ought I knowe, to knowe what manner wight
In this strange guise I am, or how I hight;
I am Tyresias, the not seeing prophett,
Blinde though I bee, I pray lett noe man scoffe it:
For blind I am, yea, blind as any beetle,
And cannot see a whitt, no, nere so little.
Heere ar no eyes, why, they ar in my minde,
Wherby I see the fortunes of mankind;
Who made mee blind? Jove? I may say to you noe; 190
But it was Joves wife & his sister Juno.
Juno & Jove fell out, both biggest gods,
And I was hee tooke vpp the merrye oddes.
You knowe it all, I am sure, 'tis somewhat common,
And how besides seven yeares I was a woman;
Which if you knowe you doe know all my state:
Come on, Ile fold the fortune of your fate.