Whiles sad Celeno, sitting on a clifte, That hart of flint asonder could have rifte; All these before the gates of Pluto lay, That to the gate of Hell, which gaped wide, That did the house of Richesse from hell-mouth divide. Before the dore sat selfe-consuming Care, Day and night keeping wary watch and ward, Therefore his house is unto his annext: Here Sleep, ther Richesse, and Hel-gate them both betwext. So soon as Mammon there arrivd, the dore To him did open and affoorded way: Well hoped hee, ere long that hardy guest, If ever covetous hand, or lustfull eye, Should be his pray. And therefore stili on hye He over him did hold his cruell clawes, That houses forme within was rude and strong, Her cunning web, and spred her subtile nett, Both roofe, and floore, and walls, were all of gold, And hid in darkenes, that none could behold Or as the Moone, cloathed with clowdy night, Does show to him that walkes in feare and sad affright. In all that rowme was nothing to be seene Them to efforce by violence or wrong: On every side they placed were along; But all the grownd with sculs was scattered, And dead mens bones, which round about were flong; THE BOWER OF BLISS. Thence passing forth, they shortly doe arryve Goodly it was enclosed rownd about, As well their entred guestes to keep within, Yet was the fence thereof but weake and thin: Yt framed was of precious yvory, Of Jason and Medea was ywritt; Her mighty charmes, her furious loving fitt; The wondred Argo, which in venturous peece First through the Euxine seas bore all the flowr of Greece. Eftsoones they heard a most melodious sound, Of all that mote delight a daintie eare, Such as attonce might not on living ground, Right hard it was for wight which did it heare, 1 1 please. To read what manner musicke that mote bee; For all that pleasing is to living eare Was there consorted in one harmonee; Birdes, voices, instruments, windes, waters, all agree: The joyous birdes, shrouded in chearefull shade Their notes unto the voice attempred sweet; Th' Angelicall soft trembling voyces made To th' instruments divine respondence meet; The silver sounding instruments did meet With the base murmure of the waters fall; The waters fall with difference discreet, Now soft, now loud, unto the wind did call; The gentle warbling wind low answered to all. There, whence that Musick seemed heard to bee, Was the faire Witch her selfe now solacing With a new Lover, whom, through sorceree And witchcraft, she from farre did thither bring: There she had him now laid aslombering In secret shade after long wanton joyes; Whilst round about them pleasauntly did sing Many faire Ladies and lascivious boyes, That ever mixt their song with light licentious toyes. * The whiles some one did chaunt this lovely lay: Ah! see, whoso fayre thing doest faine to see, In springing flowre the image of thy day. Ah! see the Virgin Rose, how sweetly shee Doth first peepe foorth with bashfull modestee, That fairer seemes the lesse ye see her may. Lo see soone after how more bold and free Her bared bosome she doth broad display; Lo! see soone after how she fades and falls away. So passeth, in the passing of a day, Of mortall life the leafe, the bud, the flowre; Ne more doth florish after first decay, That earst was sought to deck both bed and bowre Of many a lady', and many a Paramowre. Gather therefore the Rose whilest yet is prime, Whilest loving thou mayst loved be with equall crime. He ceast; and then gan all the quire of birdes Their diverse notes t'attune unto his lay, As in approvaunce of his pleasing wordes. The constant payre heard all that he did say, Yet swarved not, but kept their forward way Through many covert groves and thickets close, In which they creeping did at last display That wanton Lady with her Lover lose, Whose sleepie head she in her lap did soft dispose. [From Book iv. 1595-6.] GARDENS OF VENUS. 'Thus having past all perill, I was come For all that nature by her mother-wit Could frame in earth, and forme of substance base, Was there; and all that nature did omit, Art, playing second natures part, supplyed it. 'No tree, that is of count, in greenewood growes, From lowest Juniper to Ceder tall, No flowre in field, that daintie odour throwes, But there was planted, or grew naturall: Nor sense of man so coy and curious nice, But there it present was, and did fraile sense entice. |