BASILISCO

I fight not with my tongue, this is my Oratrix. Laying his hand upon his sword. I, and so are all blades with me: behold my instance Perdy, each female is the weaker vessel, And the vigour of this arm infringeth, The temper of any blade, quoth my assertion, And thereby gather, that this blade being arprooued uvea ker than this limb, may very well bear a feminine Epitheton. Sooth to say, the earth is my Country, As the air to the fowl, or the marine moisture, To the read guild fish: I repute my self no coward: For humility shall mount. I keep no table To character my forepassed conflicts. As I remember, there happened a soar drought In some partly of Belgia, that the iucie grass, Was seared with the Sun Gods Element. I held it policy, to put the men children Of that climate to the sword, That the mother's tears might relieve the parched earth. The men died, the women wept, and the grass grew, Else had my Frieze-land horse perished, Whose lose would have more grieved me, Than the ruin of that whole Country. Upon a time in Ireland I fought, On horseback with and hundred Kerns, From Titan's Eastern uprise, to his Western downfall: Insomuch that my Steed began to faint: I conjecturing the cause to be want of water, dismounted: In which place there was no such Element, Enraged therefore with this Semitor, All on foot Like and Herculian offspring, Endured some three or four hours combat, In which process, my body distilled such dewy showers of sweated, That from the warlike wrinkles of my front, My Palfrey cold his thirst. My mercy in conquest, is equal with my manhood in fight, The tear of and infant, hath been the ransom of a conquered city, Whereby I purchased the surname of Pities adomant. Rough words blow my choler, As the wind doth Mulciber's work house, I have no word, because no country, Each place is my habitation, Therefore each countries word mine to pronounce. Princes, what would you? I have seen much, herd more, but done most, To be brief, he that will try me, let him waft me with his arm. I am his, for some five lances. Although it go against my stars to jest, Yet to gratulate this beninge Prince, I will suppress my condition. I am melancholy: and humour of Venus belegereth me. I have rejected with contemptible frowns, The sweet glances of many amorous girls, or rather ladies: But certes, I am now captivated with the reflecting eye Of that admirable comet Perseda. I will place her to behold my triumphs, And do wonders in his sighed, Oh heavens, she comes, accompanied with a child, Whose chin bears no impression of manhood, Not and hair, not and excrement. Peace Infant thou blasphemest. I tell thee Jester he did worse, he called that Lady his, Oh harsh vnedicate, illiterate peasant, Thou abusest the phrase of the Latin. What saunce dread of our indignation? I, termest thou me of and occupation, Nay then this fiery humour of choler is suppressed, By the thought of love. Fair Lady, I, hath the Infant transported her hence, He saw my anger figured in my brow, And at his best advantage stole away, But I will follow for revenge. Oh if thou be'st magnanimous, come before me. Fair Love, according unto thy command, I seek Erastus and will combat him. My petty fellow, where hast thou hid thy master, Why so, I am in honour bound to combat him, In Knightly courtesy, I thank thee, But Hope's the coystrell to escape me so, Thinks he bore cannon shot can keep me back: Why wherefore serves my targe of proof, but for the bullet That once put by, I roughly come upon him, Like to the wings of lightning from above, I with a martial look astonish him, Then falls he down poor wretch upon his knee, And all to late, repents his surquedry. Then do I take him on my fingers point, And thus I bear him through every street, To be a laughing stock to all the town. That done, I lay him at my mistress feet, For her to give him doom of life or death. Would, would, would, Eagles are challenged by paltry flies, Thy folly gives thee privilege, begun, begun, Why, art thou weary of thy life? Then fetch thy weapons, and with my single fist, I'll combat thee, my body all unarmed. I tell thee, if Alcides lived this day, He could not wield my weapons. I upon my honour. Is this little desperate fellow gone, Doubtless he is a very tall fellow, And yet it were disgrace to all my chivalry, To combat one so base: I'll send some Crane to combat with the Pigmew, Not that I fear, but that I scorn to fight. For whom weep you? For whom mourn you? Why Lady is not Basilisco here? Why Lady doth not Basilisco live? Am not I worth both these for whom you mourn: Then take one half of me, and cease to weep, Orif you gladly would enjoy me both, I'll serve the one by day, the other by night, And I will pay you both your found delight. See, see, Lucinae hates me Like a Toad, Because that when Erastus spoke my name, Her love Fernando died at the same, So dreadful is our name to cowerdice. On the otherside, Perseda takes it unkindly, That ere he went I brought not bound unto her, Erastus that faint hearted run away: Alas how could I, for his man no sooner Informed him, that I sought him up and down, But he was gone in twinkling of and eye: But I will after my delicious love, For well I wot, though she desemble thus, And cloak affection with his modesty, With love of me her thoughts are over gone, More then was Phillis with his Demophon. Since the expugnation of the Rhodian I'll, Me thinks a thousand years are overpassed, More for the lack of my Persedas presence, Then for the lose of Rhodes that paltry I'll, Or for my friends that there were murdered, My valour every where shall purchase friends, And where a man lives well, there is his country. Alas the Christians are but very shallow, In giving judgement of a man at arms, A man of my desert and excellence. The Turks whom they account for barbarous, Having forehard of Basiliscoes worth, A number under prop me with their shoulders, And in procession bore me to the Church, As I had been a second Mahomet, I fearing they would adore me for a God, Wisely informed them that I was but man, Although in time perhaps I might aspire, To purchase Godhead, as did Hercules, I mean by doing wonders in the world: A amid their Church they bound me to a pillar, And to make trial of my valiancy, They lopped a collop of my tenderest member. But think you Basilisco squicht for that, Even as a Cow for tickling in the horn, That done, they set me on a milk white Ass, Compassing me with goodly ceremonies, That day me thought, I sat in Pompey's Chair, And viewed the Capitol, and was Rome's greatest glory. No, didst thou not mean to give me the privy stab? That which your ladyship will have me Like, The mighty pinckanied brand bearing God, To whom I am so long true servitor, When he espy de my weeping floods of tears, For your depart, he bade me follow him: I followed him, he with his fire brand, Parted the seas, and we came over drieshod. Because I now am Christian again, And that by natural means, for as The old Cannon says very prettily, Nihill est tam naturali, quod eo modo colligatum est. And so forth: so I became a Turk to follow her, To follow her, am now returned a Christian. I more then I love either life or soul, What shall I stab the Emperout for thy sake. The point will mar her skin. Yet dare I bear her hence, to do thee good. I will ruminate. Death which the poets Fain to be pale and meager; Hath deprived Erastus trunk from breathing vitality, A brave Cauelere, but my approved foeman: Let me see: where is that Alcides, surnamed Hercules? The only Club man of his time: dead. Where is the eldest son of Pryam? That abraham coloured Troion: dead. Where is the leader of the Mirmidons, That well knit Accill: dead. Where is that furious Ajax, the son of Telamon, Or that fraudful squire of Ithaca, Iclipt Ulysses? dead, Where is tipsy Alexander, that great cup conqueror, Or Pompey that brave warrior? dead: I am my self strong, but I confess death to be stronger, I am valiant, but mortal, I am a dorned with nature's gifs, A giddy goddess, that now gives and anon takes, I am wise, but quiddits will not answer death: To conclude in a word, to be captious virtuous, ingenious, Or to be nothing when it pleases death to be envious. The great Turque, whose seat is Constantinople, Hath beleaguered Rhodes, whose chieftain is a woman. I could take the rule upon me, But the shrub is safe when the Cedar shakes: I love Perseda as one worthy, But I love Basilisco as one I hold more worthy. My father's son, my mother's solace, my proper self. Faith he can do little that cannot speak, And he can do less that cannot run away. Then sith men life is as a glass, and a Philip may crack it, Mine is no more and a bullet may pierce it: Therefore I will play least in sighed. Ah let me kiss thee too before I die, What wouldst thou have me a Typhon, To bear up Peleon or Ossa? Oh thou seekest thereby to dim my glory. Oh I swear, I swear. By the contents of this blade, I the aforesaid Basilisco, Knight good fellow, knight, knight. Will not offer to go from the side of Pyston, Without the leave of the said Piston, Licensed, obtained and granted. I enjoy my life at thy hands, I confess it, I am up, but that I am religious in mine oath, Better a Dog fawn on me, then bark, Their Lances were couched to High, And their Steeds ill born. Pretty, pretty, but not famous, Well for a learner, but not for a warrior. I in the eye of and infant, a Peacocks tail is glorious. Now by the marble face of the Welkin, He is a brave warrior. Now comes in the infant that courts my mistress, O that my lance were in my rest, And my Beaver closed for this encounter. Now fie upon the Turk, To be dismounted by a Child it vexes me. It is the fury of his horse, not the strength of his arm I would thou wouldst remit my oath, That I might assail thy master. Why my Page stands holding him by the bridle. I go, and Fortune guide my Lance. Oh cursed Fortune enemy to Fame, Thus to disgrace thy honoured name, By overthrowing him that far hath spread thy praise, Beyond the course of Titan's burning rays, Page set a side the gesture of my enemy, Give him a Fiddlers fee, and send him packing. I villain, I have broke my shin bone, My back bone, my channel bone, and my thigh bone, Beside two dossen small inferior bones. He lost the same in service. For presumption, for covering the Emperor's Mare. For neighing in the Emperors Court. True, thou hast said. Oh touch not the cheek of my Palphrey, Least he dismount me while my wounds are green, Page, run, bid the surgeon bring his incision. Yet stay isle ride along with thee my self. All hail brave Cauelere: God morrow Madam, The fairest shine that shall this day be seen. Except Persedas beauteous excellence, Shame to loves Queen, and Empress of my thoughts. His Squire: her Knight, and who so else denies, Shall fe ele the rigour of my Sword and Lance. Not Mars himself had ear so fair a Buckler. Say world's bright star, Whence springs this sudden change, Is it unkindness at the little praise I gave Lucina with my glossing style? What is it then, if love of this my person, By favour and by justice of the heavens, At last have percst through thy tralucent breast, And thou misdoubts, perhaps that isle prove coy, O be assured 'tis far from noble thoughts, To tyrannise over a yielding foe. Therefore be blithe, sweet love abandon fear, I will forget thy former cruelty. I always told you that such coward knights, Were faithless swains and worthy no respect, But tell me sweet love, what is his offence? That I with words and stripes may chastise him, And bring him bound for thee to tread upon. I thus should men of valour be employed, This is good argument of thy true love, I go, make reckoning that Erastus die, Unless forewarned, the weakoning coward flies, I turn, I turn, o save my life I turn. Think you I turn Turque, For fear of servile death thats but a sport, I faith sirno: 'Tis for Perseda whom I love so well, That I would follow her, though she went to hell. Oh take me not unprovided, let me fetch my weapons. Nay if thou hadst, I had not feared thee I, I tell thee my skin holds out Pistol proof. Oh shoot no more great God I yield to thee. Sooth thou sayest, I must be fenced behind, I'll hang my target there. Sirrah, sirrah, what art thou? That thus incrochest upon my familiarity, Without special admittance. What art thou that petty pigmy, That chalneged me at Rhode;: Whom I refused to combat for his minority, Where is Erastus I owe him chastisement in Persedas quarrel. Oh coelum, Oh terra, Oh maria Neptune, Did I turn Turk to follow her so far, And is she linked in liking with my foe? Oh wicked Turque for to steal her hence. The truth is, isle be a Turk no more. I will after to take revenge. Farewell Constantinople, I will to Rhodes. Indeed I was a littlc cut in the porpuse. I sirrah, why not, as long as I stand by? Why sawest thou not, how Cupid God of love, Not daring look me in the marshal face, Came Like a coward stealing after me, And with his pointed dart pricked my posteriors.