Classic Poem

GERON .

In faith, good Histor, long is your delay
From holy marriage, sweet and surest meane,
Our foolish lust in honest rules to stay.
I pray thee doe to Lalus' sample leane;
Thou seest how friske and iolly now he is,
That last day seem'd he could not chew a beane
Beleeue me, man, there is no greater blisse
Than is the quiet ioy of louing wife,
Which whoso wants, halfe of himselfe doth misse.
Friend without change, play-fellow without strife,
Food without fullnesse, counsaile without pride,
Is this sweet doubling of our single life.

HISTOR .

No doubt, to whom so good chance did betide,
As for to finde a pasture strewed with gold,
He were a foole if there he did not bide:
Who would not haue a Phaenix if he could?
The humming waspe, if it had not a sting,
Before all flies the waspe accept I would.
But this bad world few golden fields doth bring —
Phaenix but one, of crowes we millions haue;
The waspe seemes gay, but is a combrous thing.
If many Kalaes our Arcadia gaue,
Lalus' example I would soon ensue,
And thinke I did my selfe from sorrow saue.
But of such wiues we finde a slender crew,
Shrewdnesse so stirres, pride so puffes vp the heart;
They seldome ponder what to them is due:
With meager lookes, as if they still did smart,
Puiling or whimpring, or else scoulding flat,
Make home more paine than following of the cart.
Eyther dull silence, or eternall chat,
Still contrary to what her husband saies;
If he doe praise the dog, she likes the cat.
Austere she is when he would honest playes,
And gamesome then when he thinkes on his sheep;
Shee bids him goe, and yet from iourney stayes:
Shee warre doth euer with his kinsfolke keepe,
And makes them fremb'd who friends by nature are,
Envying shallow toyes with malice deepe.
And if, forsooth, there come some new found ware,
The little coyne his sweating brows haue got
Must goe for that, if for her lowres he care;
Or else, — Nay, faith, mine is the lucklest lot
That euer fell to honest woman yet;
No wife but I hath such a man, God wot!"
Such is their speech, who be of sober wit;
But who doe let their tongues shew well their rage,
Lord, what by-words they speake, what spite they spit!
The house is made a very lothsome cage,
Wherein the bird doth neuer sing, but cry,
With such a will as nothing can asswage.
Dearely the seruants doe their wages buy,
Reuil'd for each small fault, sometimes for none;
They better liue that in a gaile doe lie.
Let other fowler spots away be blowne,
For I seeke not their shame; but still me thinkes
A better life it is to lie alone.

GERON .

Who, for each fickle feare, from vertue shrinkes
Shall in this life embrace no worthy thing;
No mortall man the cup of suretie drinkes.
The heav'ns doe not good haps in handfulls bring,
But let vs pike our good from out much bad,
That still our little world may know his king.
But certainly so long we may be glad,
While that we doe what Nature doth require;
And for th' euent we neuer ought be sad.
Man oft is plagu'd with ayre, is burnt with fire,
In water drown'd, in earth his buriall is;
And shall we not, therefore, their vse desire?
Nature aboue all things requireth this,
That we our kinde doe labour to maintaine,
Which drawne-out line doth hold all humane blisse
The father iustly may of thee complaine,
If thou doe not repay his deeds for thee,
In granting vnto him a grandsire's gaine.
Thy common-wealth may rightly grieued be,
Which must by this immortall be preserued,
If thus thou murther thy posteritie.
His very being he hath not deserued,
Who for a selfe-conceit will that forbeare,
Whereby that being aye must be conserued.
And God forbid women such cattell were
As you paint them; but well in you I finde
No man doth speake aright who speakes in feare.
Who onely sees the ill is worse than blind;
These fifty winters married haue I beene,
And yet finde no such fault in womankind.
I haue a wife worthy to be a queene,
So well she can command, and yet obay;
In ruling of a house so well shee's seene:
And yet, in all this time betwixt vs tway
We beare our double yoke with such consent,
That neuer past foule word, I dare well say.
But these are your loue-toyes, which still are spent
In lawlesse games, and loue not as you should,
But with much studie learne late to repent.
How well last day before our Prince you could
Blinde Cupid's workes with wonder testifie,
Yet now the roote of him abase you would!
Goe to, goe to, and Cupid now apply
To that where thou thy Cupid maist auow,
And thou shalt finde in women vertues lie:
Sweete supple mindes which soone to wisedome bow
Where they by wisedome's rule directed are,
And are not forc'd fond thraldome to allow.
As we to get are fram'd, so they to spare;
We made for paine, our paines they made to cherish;
We care abroad, and they of home haue care.
O Histor, seeke within thy selfe to flourish;
Thy house by thee must liue, or else be gone,
And then who shall the name of Histor nourish?
Riches of children passe a prince's throne,
Which touch the father's heart with secret ioy,
When without shame he saith, these be mine owne.
Marry, therefore; for marriage will destroy
Those passions which to youthfull head do clime —
Mothers and nurses of all vaine annoy.

HISTOR .

Perchance I will, but now me thinkes it time
To goe vnto the bride, and vse this day
To speake with her while freely speake we may.