PERINDUS

Yet Fishers life with me does most consort, This sporting serves to moralise my sport: Viewing the storms, and troublesome waves; I find Some thing in nature restless as my mind: Each captive fish tells met that in death's snare, My heart is not the only prisoner. There in the tide I see fleet Fortune's changing, And state of man, weak state: that's never standing: But rises still, or falls all as the main, That ebbs to flow, or flows to ebb again. Yet fortune I accuse thee not for raging, Let others plain, I never felt the changing, Bud wast thou at the first, and so art still, Before I knew what's good I knew the ill: And since of all my goods thou first bereavest me, I near expected good, thou near deceiud'st me; Therefore although Oracle from whence I late arrived, would feed vain confidence; Yet since so sure assurance thou dost give me, Still of the two fortune I must believe thee. What fearful tempest do the waves foretell, When seas without a storm to mountains swell. The greatest evils oft are where thee show not. I fear the more, because my fear I know not. Music! how sad it sounds; my damped heart Tells me in these sad strains I bear a partly: I wrong thee fate, or else thou now dost strain thee Which some unused weleomet' entertain me. Yes. My sister. Yes: No: Thou counsailst well, Grief weary of it self, all sense depriving. Felt neither sense, nor grief, by ouergrieuing: Enter Atyches. But see my Atyches : what different passion Strive in his doubtful face, pity would weep, And danger feign would rock high thoughts a sleep, While resolution chides the daring fear, And courage makes poor fear afrade to fear. Atyches. Why whats the news? Ah my Olinda who can pity thee That wouldst not pity the excellent Thalander. It's joust ye seas well does impartial fate With monstrous death pnni h thy monstrous hate. And whither art thou now thus armed going. Why canst thou hope such losses to repair? What it's impossible? ah cease to prove? It's certain thou adst thy death to hers What good canst do when thou canst not restore her. It's fate that in this monster bids engrave her. In vain to fight against all conquering Jove : Atych S why shouldst thou thus betray thy self? She was my sister, and as deer to me As ever was a sister to a brother: Had fate felt any hope, my willing hand Should be as Pressed to give her aid as any. Were not the fight gainst heaven I might adventure, But here I needs must leave her, though a brother She never loved me. More shouldst thou hate her now: Go choicest spirit: the heavenly love regard thee, And for thy love, with life, and love reward thee. It will be tedious, and my heavy mind Fit words for such a tale can never find: Yet I'll unfold it all, that you may see How beauteous love shows in inconstancy: Who hath not herd of Glaucus love? hapless While fairest Seylla baths him, love inspires At once herself she cools and him she fires. A sea God burned in flames, and flames most please him Glaucus finds neither waves nor herbs to ease him Cold were his eyes more cold her coy disdain: Yet none of Both could quench loves scorching flame: Till Circe whom scorned love to madness moves Quenches at once her beauty and his loves. There stands she now a proof of jealous spite As full of horror now as then delight: Vain words that think to blaze so great perfection, Their perfectness more proves words imperfection. But if these words some little sparkle move, How would their sighed inflame thy soul with love? Scarce did his hair betray his blooming years, When with his budding youth his love appears, My self and sister equally he loves, And as on those two poles heaven ever moves So on us two his soul still fixed, still loving Was ever constant, by his constant moving: Yet never knew we which was most respected, Both equally and both he most affected. In me his worthy love with joust reflection, Kindled and equal and a Like affection, But she my sister most ungrateful maid, With hate, ah hateful vice, his love repayed Shortly to come to'th' height of all their wrong, So could this Mago fill his smooth to tongue, That she halander banished from her sighed, Never to see her more his sole delight: And he to none his hidden grief in parted, But full of loving duty straight departed Leaving our groves in woods he grows a ranger To all but beasts and senseless trees a stranger. Thus in a desert Like his love forsaken Wh n no hing but cold death his flames could slacken Atyches spied him but so grief had pined him. That when he saw him plain, he could not find him. And so had sorrow all his graces re to That in him, of him no hing now was left Only his love; with which his latest brea h H powered into his ears, so slept I death. The rest when better leisu e time affo ds This uck ess day asks rather tears hen words. Blessed is that fisher swane that sancke i'th flood He's food for them whom he would make his food. But I most wretched, who so many years Live safe in waters to be drowned in fears. In fire and sorrow Like Titius is my life A covered table furnished still for grief. Hell love your pains, for all poor souls can p oue Is felt and spoke but thus careless I love. Alcippus what news? me thinks I plain descry Joy mixed with wonder in thy doubtful eye. Is'st good ah tell me, yet my grounded fear Pleads hope impossible. Sawest thou the York? Can' to thou describe it? Me thinks I see him and the unhappy lover Strook through with fright. Hercules thy twelve works with this one conferred This one before thy twelve might be preferred. Atyches how farest thou? Oh let these arms inlace thee Me thinks I hold half heaven when I embrace thee. Most willingly and when thou once art there Then it's a temple may justly swear. Yes, yes, thou art the same both then and now As fair, more fair then heavens clearest brow. In heaven to dwell: The purest star deserves not heaven so well. True, ah too true: Then was I happy being so distressed, And now most miserable by being blessed. Fa, la, la, fa, la, la, lah. Ah me most miserable More wretched Perindus, Where by refusing life, thou diest, for whom Thou livest, in whom thou drawest thy joy and breath, And to accept, thy life is more then death. Fa, la, la, fa, la, la, lah. Atyches? If thou seest Atyches, send him hither friend; Exi Pass. Of all the plagues that torture souls in h ll, Tant le, thy punishment does most excel. For present goods, thy evil most express, Making thee unhappy in thy happiness. Such are my pains: my blessedness torments me, I see, and may enjoy what more torments me. My life then love, I rather would forsake, Yet for my life, my love I dare not take. Glaucilla, couldst thou see this wretched breast, What torments in it never resting rest, Whom now thou thinkest the cause of all thy grieving, Then thou wouldst judge the wretchedest creature living. She's here. Enter Glaucilla. Fa, la, la, fa, la, la, lah. Didst never see the rocks in sailing move? My picture right. Would, would, he, how scurvily grief laughs! Ay me. Ah Glaucilla. I cannot hate, but laugh, and dance and sport, This is not hate, Glaucilla, it's not hate. Glaucilla? Stay: Stay, i'll tell thee all. Glaucilla, call back thy wish, seek not to know Thine or my death, thou winnest thine overthrow. if I had any joy, it were thine own, But grant me to be wretched all alone. Thou seekest my love, it is my love to hide it, And I shall show more hate, when I divide it. Glaucilla, while my griefs untouched rest, My better partly seems quiet in thy breast. Since then thou wilt not give me leave to hide it, Briefly it's thus: when thou thy love hadst vowed me Most sure, but yet no certain time allowed me; My marriage day as all my good desiring, To Prote S Cell I went, the time inquiring, There herd these words, the cause of all my sadness, The Can see of all my seeming hate and gladness. Thus went the Oracle. The day, that thou with grief so long forbearest, Shall bring thee what thou wishest most and fearest. Thy sisters graven shall be her marriage bed, In one self day twice dying, and once dead. Thy friend, whom thou didst ever dearest choose, In losing thou shalt find, in finding lose. And briefly to conclude the worst at last, Thou, or thy Love shall from a rock be cast. Glaucilla, had thy love but with my life been prized, My life enjoy thy love I had despised. But since it may be thine, thy life destroying, Shall never be given for my loves enjoying: Much rather, let me live in fires tormenting, Then with such purchase buy my hearts contenting. Yet though such mischief Proteus did divine, Much better sped I at my father's shrine: Coming to Delphos, where the Pythian maid Told me my wis es should be fully paid And that within few days I should arrive Through many bitter storms, into the hive. Mayest thou prove true, or if heaven bade decree The good be thine, light all the bade on me. Would: this is he, I'll stand and overhear him. Thalander ? i'st possible? I oft suspected How he is altered! not himself! i'st possible? More Then thousand such as she can never re tore, Thalander ; start not; how have my eyes deceived me? Ah, let me bless my arms with thy embraces. My deer, Thalander, my only life, my heart, My soul, Oh of my soul the better partly. Is't thee I hold; I scarce dare trust mine eyes, Which thus deceived me by their former lies. I am the blessedest man that lives to hold thee. My heart does dance to find thee. In losing of thy fame, th'ast found She loves thee friend most dearly, And though she thought thy love would be her death Yet for and in thy love, shee'd loose her breath, And nothing else should grieve her in the end She had one life for such a love to spend. Why shouldst thou mistrust me? Her self hall speak it. Come, let's go. Shee'l think it day, when thou art in her sighed. BE patient. You give your self to grief Alas sir, she was mortal, and must die. She was my sister! Be comforted. Sir, with more patience you have often born Far greater evils. Thalander, I'll not leave thee, Should heaven with thunder strike these arms that clasp thee, My dying hands should but more firmly grasp thee. No though all spite within her bosom swelled, Spite of her spite his love her hate excelled; At length to show how much he was neglected, His rival ugly rival she affected: Such rival could I wish whose foul distortion, Would make seem excellent a mean proportion, For Mago, thus his hated rival's named) All black and foul, most strange and ugly framed Begotten by Saturn, on a seaborn witch, Resembling both, his hairs Like threads of pitch Distorted feet, and eyes sunk in his head: His face dead pale, and seemed but moving led Yet worse within, for in his heart to dwell His mother's furies have their darkest hell. Yet when Thalander wooed her, she neglects him, And when this monster flattered she respects him. C Uma ! bear home our spoils, and con quering weapons, And truss them on a wreathe as our joust trophy: And when Can rone returns, return to me. Exit Cuma Thus: if but thus: yet thus my state is better, While lesser cares do laugh and mock the greater; This change is best when changing I frequent, Even now that moist, now this dry element, When with this sceptre, setting on the Land, The scaly footless people I command: When riding on my wooden horse, I see The Earth that never moves, remove from me. A worser why my friend does not this guise beseem me? In this I am not wretchless as you deem me Sh pheard or fisher, I am still the same, I am a sea guest not for gain, but game. Canst tell the cause and manner?