The Works of Christopher Marlowe, Vol. 3 (of 3). Christopher MarloweЧитать онлайн книгу.

      Leander to the envious light

      Resigns his night-sports with the night,

      And swims the Hellespont again.

      Thesme, the deity sovereign

      Of customs and religious rites,

      Appears, reproving45 his delights,

      Since nuptial honours he neglected;

      Which straight he vows shall be effected.

      Fair Hero, left devirginate,

      Weighs, and with fury wails her state;

      But with her love and woman's wit

      She argues and approveth it.

      New light gives new directions, fortunes new,

      To fashion our endeavours that ensue.

      More harsh, at least more hard, more grave and high

      Our subject runs, and our stern Muse must fly.

      Love's edge is taken off, and that light flame,

      Those thoughts, joys, longings, that before became

      High unexperienc'd blood, and maids' sharp plights,

      Must now grow staid, and censure the delights,

      That, being enjoy'd, ask judgment; now we praise,

      As having parted: evenings crown the days.

      And now, ye wanton Loves, and young Desires,

      Pied Vanity, the mint of strange attires,

      Ye lisping Flatteries, and obsequious Glances,

      Relentful Musics, and attractive Dances,

      And you detested Charms constraining love!

      Shun love's stoln sports by that these lovers prove.

      By this, the sovereign of heaven's golden fires,

      And young Leander, lord of his desires,

      Together from their lovers' arms arose:

      Leander into Hellespontus throws

      His Hero-handled body, whose delight

      Made him disdain each other epithite.

      And as amidst th' enamour'd waves he swims,

      The god of gold46 of purpose gilt his limbs,

      That, this word gilt47 including double sense,

      The double guilt of his incontinence

      Might be express'd, that had no stay t' employ

      The treasure which the love-god let him joy

      In his dear Hero, with such sacred thrift

      As had beseem'd so sanctified a gift;

      But, like a greedy vulgar prodigal,

      Would on the stock dispend, and rudely fall,

      Before his time, to that unblessèd blessing

      Which, for lust's plague, doth perish with possessing:

      Joy graven in sense, like snow48 in water, wasts:

      Without preserve of virtue, nothing lasts.

      What man is he, that with a wealthy eye

      Enjoys a beauty richer than the sky,

      Through whose white skin, softer than soundest sleep,

      With damask eyes the ruby blood doth peep,

      And runs in branches through her azure veins,

      Whose mixture and first fire his love attains;

      Whose both hands limit both love's deities,

      And sweeten human thoughts like Paradise;

      Whose disposition silken is and kind,

      Directed with an earth-exempted mind;—

      Who thinks not heaven with such a love is given?

      And who, like earth, would spend that dower of heaven,

      With rank desire to joy it all at first?

      What simply kills our hunger, quencheth thirst,

      Clothes but our nakedness, and makes us live,

      Praise doth not any of her favours give:

      But what doth plentifully minister

      Beauteous apparel and delicious cheer,

      So order'd that it still excites desire,

      And still gives pleasure freeness to aspire,

      The palm of Bounty ever moist preserving;

      To Love's sweet life this is the courtly carving.

      Thus Time and all-states-ordering Ceremony

      Had banish'd all offence: Time's golden thigh

      Upholds the flowery body of the earth

      In sacred harmony, and every birth

      Of men and actions49 makes legitimate;

      Being us'd aright, the use of time is fate.

      Yet did the gentle flood transfer once more

      This prize of love home to his father's shore;

      Where he unlades himself on that false wealth

      That makes few rich,—treasures compos'd by stealth;

      And to his sister, kind Hermione

      (Who on the shore kneel'd, praying to the sea

      For his return), he all love's goods did show,

      In Hero seis'd for him, in him for Hero.

      His most kind sister all his secrets knew,

      And to her, singing, like a shower, he flew,

      Sprinkling