ELEGIA XIV.
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d amicam, si peccatura est, ut occulte peccet. Seeing thou art fair, I bar not thy false playing,But let not me, poor soul, know[435] of thy straying.Nor do I give thee counsel to live chaste,But that thou would'st dissemble, when 'tis past.She hath not trod awry, that doth deny it.Such as confess have lost their good names by it.What madness is't to tell night-pranks[436] by day?And[437] hidden secrets openly to bewray?The strumpet with the stranger will not do,Before the room be clear and door put-to. 10Will you make shipwreck of your honest name,And let the world be witness of the same?Be more advised, walk as a puritan,And I shall think you chaste, do what you can.Slip still, only deny it when 'tis done,And, before folk,[438] immodest speeches shun.The bed is for lascivious toyings meet,There use all tricks,[439] and tread shame under feet.When you are up and dressed, be sage and grave,And in the bed hide all the faults you have. 20Be not ashamed to strip you, being there,And mingle thighs, yours ever mine to bear.[440]There in your rosy lips my tongue entomb,Practise a thousand sports when there you come.Forbear no wanton words you there would speak,And with your pastime let the bedstead creak;But with your robes put on an honest face,And blush, and seem as you were full of grace.Deceive all; let me err; and think I'm right,And like a wittol think thee void of slight. 30Why see I lines so oft received and given?This bed and that by tumbling made uneven?Like one start up your hair tost and displaced,And with a wanton's tooth your neck new-rased.Grant this, that what you do I may not see;If you weigh not ill speeches, yet weigh me.My soul fleets[441] when I think what you have done,And thorough[442] every vein doth cold blood run.Then thee whom I must love, I hate in vain,And would be dead, but dead[443] with thee remain. 40I'll not sift much, but hold thee soon excused.Say but thou wert injuriously accused.Though while the deed be doing you be took,And I see when you ope the two-leaved book,[444]Swear I was blind; deny[445] if you be wise,And I will trust your words more than mine eyes.From him that yields, the palm[446] is quickly got,Teach but your tongue to say, "I did it not,"And being justified by two words, thinkThe cause acquits you not, but I[447] that wink. 50 FOOTNOTES: [435] So Isham copy and eds. B, C.--Ed. A "wit." [436] So Isham copy.--Ed. A "night-sports." [437] So eds. B, C.--Isham copy and ed. A "Or." [438] So Isham copy.--Ed. A "people." [439] So Isham copy.--Ed. A "toyes." [440] So eds. B, C.--Isham copy and ed. A "mine ever yours." [441] "Mens abit." [442] So eds. B, C.--Isham copy and ed. A "through." [443] So eds. B, C.--Isham copy and ed. A "dying." [444] The original has "Et fuerint oculis probra videnda meis." [445] So eds. B, C.--Isham copy and ed. A "yeeld not." [446] So eds. B, C.--Isham copy and ed. A "garland." [447] So Isham copy and eds. A, B.--Ed. C "that I." ELEGIA XV.[448] Ad Venerem, quod elegis finem imponat. Tender Loves' mother[449] a new poet get,This last end to my Elegies is set.[450]Which I, Peligny's foster-child, have framed,Nor am I by such wanton toys defamed.Heir of an ancient house, if help that can,Not only by war's rage[451] made gentleman.In Virgil Mantua joys: in Catull Verone;Of me Peligny's nation boasts alone;Whom liberty to honest arms compelled,When careful Rome in doubt their prowess held.[452] 10And some guest viewing watery Sulmo's walls,Where little ground to be enclosed befalls,"How such a poet could you bring forth?" says:"How small soe'er, I'll you for greatest praise."Both loves, to whom my heart long time did yield,[453]Your golden ensigns pluck[454] out of my field.Horned Bacchus graver fury doth distil,A greater ground with great horse is to till.Weak Elegies, delightful Muse, farewell;A work that, after my death, here shall dwell. 20 FOOTNOTES: [448] Not in Isham copy or ed. A. [449] "Tenerorum mater amorum." [450] "Marlowe's copy of Ovid had 'Traditur haec elegis ultima chartameis.'"--Dyce. (The true reading is "Raditur hic ... meta meis.") [451] "Non modo militiae turbine factus eques." [452] "Cum timuit socias anxia turba manus." [453] "Marlowe's copy of Ovid had 'Culte puer, puerique parens _mihitempore longo_.' (instead of what we now read 'Amathusiaculti.')"--Dyce. [454] Old eds. "pluckt." EPIGRAMS BY J[OHN] D[AVIES]. EPIGRAMS BY J[OHN] D[AVIES].[455]
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