Classic Poem

VENUS , P ARIS , and a company of Shepherds.

VEN . Shepherds, I am content, for this sweet shepherd's sake,
A strange revenge upon the maid and her disdain to take.
Let Colin's corpse be brought in place, and buried in the plain,
And let this be the verse, The love whom Thestylis hath slain .
And, trust me, I will chide my son for partiality,
That gave the swain so deep a wound, and let her scape him by.
First Shep . Alas that ever Love was blind, to shoot so far amiss!
Ven . Cupid my son was more to blame, the fault not mine, but his.
Par . O madam, if yourself would deign the handling of the bow,
Albeit it be a task, yourself more skill, more justice know.
Ven . Sweet shepherd, didst thou ever love?
Par . Lady, a little once.
Ven . And art thou changed?
Par . Fair Queen of Love, I loved not all attonce.
Ven . Well, wanton, wert thou wounded so deep as some have been,
It were a cunning cure to heal, and rueful to be seen.
Par . But tell me, gracious goddess, for a start and false offence
Hath Venus or her son the power at pleasure to dispense?
Ven . My boy, I will instruct thee in a piece of poetry,
That haply erst thou hast not heard: in hell there is a tree,
Where once a-day do sleep the souls of false forsworen lovers,
With open hearts; and there about in swarms the number hovers
Of poor forsaken ghosts, whose wings from off this tree do beat
Round drops of fiery Phlegethon to scorch false hearts with heat.
This pain did Venus and her son entreat the prince of hell
T' impose to such as faithless were to such as loved them well:
And, therefore, this, my lovely boy, fair Venus doth advise thee,
Be true and steadfast in thy love, beware thou do disguise thee;
For he that makes but love a jest, when pleaseth him to start,
Shall feel those fiery water drops consume his faithless heart,
Par . Is Venus and her son so full of justice and severity?
Ven . Pity it were that love should not be linked with indifferency.
However lovers can exclaim for hard success in love,
Trust me, some more than common cause that painful hap doth move:
And Cupid's bow is not alone his triumph, but his rod;
Nor is he only but a boy, he hight a mighty god;
And they that do him reverence have reason for the same,
His shafts keep heaven and earth in awe, and shape rewards or shame.
Par . And hath he reason to maintain why Colin died for love?
Ven . Yea, reason good, I warrant thee, in right it might behove.
Par . Then be the name of Love adored; his bow is full of might,
His wounds are all but for desert, his laws are all but right.
[ Ven .] Well, for this once me list apply my speeches to thy sense,
And Thestylis shall feel the pain for Love's supposed offence.
The Shepherds bring in C OLIN'S hearse, singing ,
Welladay, welladay, poor Colin, thou art going to the ground,
The love whom Thestylis hath slain,
Hard heart, fair face, fraught with disdain,
Disdain in love a deadly wound.
Wound her, sweet Love, so deep again,
That she may feel the dying pain
Of this unhappy shepherd's swain,
And die for love as Colin died, as Colin died.
Ven. Shepherds, abide; let Colin's corpse be witness of the pain
That Thestylis endures in love, a plague for her disdain.
Behold the organ of our wrath, this rusty churl is he;
She dotes on his ill-favour'd face, so much accurs'd is she.
A foul crooked Churl enters, and T HESTYLIS , a fair Lass, wooeth him, and singeth an old song called The Wooing of Colman: he crabbedly refuseth her, and goeth out of place: she tarreieth behind .

Par. Ah, poor unhappy Thestylis, unpitied is thy pain!
Ven. Her fortune not unlike to hers whom cruel thou hast slain.

T HESTYLIS singeth, and the Shepherds reply .

THE SONG .

Thest. The strange affects of my tormented heart,
Whom cruel love hath woeful prisoner caught,
Whom cruel hate hath into bondage brought,
Whom wit no way of safe escape hath taught,
Enforce me say, in witness of my smart,
There is no pain to foul disdain in hardy suits of love.
Shepherds . There is no pain, &c.
Thest. Cruel, farewell.
Shepherds . Cruel, farewell.
Thest. Most cruel thou, of all that nature fram'd,
Shepherds . Most cruel, &c.
Thest. To kill thy love with thy disdain.
Shepherds . To kill thy love with thy disdain.
Thest. Cruel Disdain, so live thou nam'd,
Shepherds . Cruel Disdain, &c.
Thest. And let me die of Iphis' pain,
Shepherds . A life too good for thy disdain.
Thest. Sith this my stars to me allot,
And thou thy love hast all forgot.
Shepherds . And thou, &c.
The grace of this song is in the Shepherds' echo to her verse .
Ven. Now, shepherds, bury Colin's corpse, perfume his hearse with flowers,
And write what justice Venus did amid these woods of yours.
How now, how cheers my lovely boy, after this dump of love?
Par. Such dumps, sweet lady, as bin these, are deadly dumps to prove.
Ven. Cease, shepherd, there are other news, after this melancholy:
My mind presumes some tempest toward upon the speech of Mercury.

M ERCURY with V ULCAN'S Cyclops enter. Manentibus V EN . cum P AR .

Mer. Fair Lady Venus, let me pardoned be,
That have of long bin well-beloved of thee,
If, as my office bids, myself first brings
To my sweet madam these unwelcome tidings.
Ven. What news, what tidings, gentle Mercury,
In midst of my delights, to trouble me?
Mer. At Juno's suit, Pallas assisting her,
Sith both did join in suit to Jupiter,
Action is enter'd in the court of heaven;
And me, the swiftest of the planets seven,
With warrant they have thence despatch'd away,
To apprehend and find the man, they say,
That gave from them that self-same ball of gold,
Which, I presume, I do in place behold;
Which man, unless my marks be taken wide,
Is he that sits so near thy gracious side.
This being so, it rests he go from hence,
Before the gods to answer his offence.
Ven. What tale is this? doth Juno and her mate
Pursue this shepherd with such deadly hate,
As what was then our general agreement,
To stand unto they nill be now content?
Let Juno jet, and Pallas play her part,
What here I have, I won it by desert;
And heaven and earth shall both confounded be,
Ere wrong in this be done to him or me.
Mer. This little fruit, if Mercury can spell,
Will send, I fear, a world of souls to hell.
Ven. What mean these Cyclops, Mercury? is Vulcan wax'd so fine,
To send his chimney-sweepers forth to fetter any friend of mine? —
Abash not, shepherd, at the thing; myself thy bail will be. —
He shall be present at the court of Jove, I warrant thee.
Mer. Venus, give me your pledge.
Ven. My ceston, or my fan, or both?
Mer. Nay, this shall serve, your word to me as sure as is your oath,
At Dian's bower; and, lady, if my wit or policy
May profit him, for Venus' sake let him make bold with Mercury.
Ven. Sweet Paris, whereon dost thou muse?
Par. The angry heavens, for this fatal jar,
Name me the instrument of dire and deadly war.