MENAPHON

These are delights, If my experience hath not Trewant-like Misspent the time, which I have strove to use, For bettering my mind with observation. What? Sweet Sir, it's nothing, Straight comes a Dolphin playing near your ship, Heaving his crooked back up, and presents A Featherbed, to waft'ee to the shore, As easily as if you slepti'th' Court. I will not stretch Your Faith upon the Teinters, prithee Pelias, Where didst thou learn this language? My honoured Father. Oh Princely Sir, your hand. Yes, I know it, To him I owe more service.— It's pieced to mine. Such cure as sick men find in changing beds, I found in change of Airs; the fancy flattered My Hope's with ease, as theirs do, but the grief Is still the same. Thamasta, my great Mistress, Your Princely Sister, hath, I hope ere this, Confirmed affection on some worthy choice. Does the Court Wear the old looks too? Why should such as I am, Groan under the light burdens of small sorrows, When as a Prince, so potent, cannot shun Motions of passion? To be man (my Lord) Is to be but the exercise of cares In several shapes; as Misery's do grow, They altar as men's forms; but how, none know. Then any I have observed abroad: all Countries else To a free eye and mind yield something rare; And I for my partly, have brought home one Jewel. Of admirable valve. A Jewel, my Amethus, a fair Youth; A Youth, whom if I were but superstitious, I should repute and Excellence more high, Then mere creations are, to add delight. I'll tell ye how I found him. Passing from Italy to Greece, the Tales Which Poets of and elder time have feigned To glorify their Tempe, bred in me Desire of visiting that Paradise. To Thessaly I came, and living private, Without acquaintance of more sweet companions Then the old Inmates to my love, my thoughts; I day by day frequented silent Groves, And solitary Walks. Vide Fami stradam. lib. 2. Prolas. 6. Acad. 3. Imitat. Clau dian. One morning early This accident encountered me: I herd The sweetest and most ravishing contention, That Art or Nature ever were at strife in. I shall soon resolve ye. A found of music touched mine ears, or rather Indeed entranced my soul: as I stole nearer, Invited by the melody, I saw This Youth, this fair-faced Youth, upon his Lute With strains of strange variety and harmony, Proclaiming (as it seemed) so bold a challenge To the clear Quiristers of the Woods, the Birds, That as they flocked about him, all stood silent, Wondering at what they herd. I wondered too. A Nightingale. Nature's best skilled Musician undertakes The challenge, and for every several strain The well-shaped Youth could touch, she sung her down; He cooed not run Worser vision with more Art Upon his quaking Instrument, then she, The Nightingale did with her various notes Reply too, for a voice, and for a found, Amethus, 'tis much easier to believe That such they were, then hope to hear again. I wone him by degrees To choose me his Companion whence he is, Or who, as I durst modestly inquire, So gently he would woo not to make known: Only for reasons to himself reserved, He told me, that some remnant of his life Was to be spent in Travail; for his Fortune's, They were nor mean, nor riotous, his friends Not published to the world, though not obscure: His Country, Athens; and his name, Parthenophill. Willingly. The same of our young melancholy Prince, Meleanders rare distractions, the obedience Of young Cle phila, Thamasta's glory, Your matchless friendship, and my desperate love Prevailed with him, and I have lodged him privately In Famagusta. 'Tis a curious, A pleasantly contrived delight. It were impossible, since your fair presence Makes every place where it vouchsafes to shine, More lovely then all other helps of Art Can equal. 'Twould argue want of manners, more then skill, Not to praise praise it self. It's my first step to honour: May I fallen Lower then shame, when I neglect all service That may confirm this favour. My persuasions wone him. His wonted melancholy still pursues him. We will attend ye both. I would I could as easily remove Sadness from your remembrance, Sir, as study To do you faithful service—my deer Cousin, All best of comforts bless your sweet obedience. This young stranger Will well deserve your knowledge. Sir, believe him. My friend is serious. Friend, what ails thee? Parthenophill passed the way; prithee Kala Direct me to him. Forbear! Rival, Kala. Take heed, thou art too credulous. 'Twill make me mad. I will reward thee: But as for him, ungentle Boy, I'll whip His falsehood with a vengeance.— I am silent. With your leave, great Mistress! I come— So private: is this well, Parthenophill? You are unkind and treacherous. This 'tis to trust a straggler. I dare not question you, you are my Mistress; My Princes nearest Kinswoman, but he— Dare? Were you not own Sister to my friend, Sister to my Amethus ; I would hurl you As far off from mine eyes, as from my heart; For I would never more look on ye. Take Your Jewel t'ee. And Youth, keep under wing, Or—Boy—Boy. 'Tis nought, fie, fie, Parthenophill, have I deserved To be thus used? You shall not, Henceforth I will be free, and hate my bondage. The Judge, your Sister, will decide it shor lie. Sir, your Sister. Fear nothing. Gracious and virtuous Mistress. Pray love your fame. Not to be herd of. It shall be granted. Are you consented? Lady, will you confirm the gift? My love, my care, my all. Is this your she-Page, Cuculus ? 'tis a Boy, sure. You term them rightly, For they were Rivals, and their Mistress harmony. Some time thus spent, the young man grew at last Into a pretty anger, that a bird Whom Art had never taught Cliffs, Moods, or Notes, Should vie with him for mastery, whose study Had busied many hours to perfect practice: To end the controversy, in a rapture, Upon his Instrument he plays so swiftly, So many voluntaries, and so quick, That there was curiosity and cunning, Concord in discord, lines of differing method Meeting in one full Centre of delight. The bird ordained to be Musics first Martyr, strove to imitate These several sounds: which, when her warbling throat Failed in, for grief, down dropped she on his Lute, And brake her heart; it was the quaintest sadness, To see the Conqueror upon her Hearse, To weep a funeral Elegy of tears, That trust me (my Amethus ) I cooed chide Mine own unmanly weakness, that made me A fellow-mourner with him. Amet. I believe thee. He looks upon the trophies of his Art, Then sighed, then wiped his eyes, then sighed, and cried, Alas poor creature: I will soon revenge This cruelty upon the Author of it; Henceforth this Lute guilty of innocent blood, Shall never more betray a harmless peace To and untimely end: and in that sorrow, As he was pashing it against a tree, I suddenly stepped in. I reprieved Th'intended execution with entreaties, And interruption: but (my Princely friend) It was not strange, the music of his hand Did overmatch birds, when his voice and beauty, Youth, carriage and discretion, must, from men Endued with reason, ravish admiration: From me they did. May I Without offence? She's too excellent, And I too low in merit. You have blessed me. Humbly on my knees I kiss your gracious hand. If my prayers or service Hold—any valve, they are vowed yours ever. Good Uncle! That were too much pity: Honest most honest Kala ; 'tis thy care, Thy serviceable care. Henceforth I will bury Unmanly passion in perpetual silence. I'll court mine own distraction, dote on folly, Creep to the mirth and madness of the age, Rather then be so slaved again to woman, Which in her best of constancy is steddist In change and scorn. Court him, plead, and sue to him, Servilely; and pardon me, if I say basely. What I confirm, is truth. If I conceived you were Jealous of my sincerity and plainness, Then Sir— I would then resolve, You were as changeable in vows of friendship, As is Thamasta in her choice of love. That sin is double, running in a blood, Which justifies another being worse. With a coldness, As modest and as hopeless, as the trust I did repose in him, cooed wish, or merit. Great Mistress, no: I rather quarrel with mine own ambition, That durst to soar so high, as to feed hope Of any least desert, that might entitle My duty, to a pension from your favours. DAngers? How mean you dangers? that so courtly You gratulate my safe return from dan gers?