CASSANDRA.

VPon a gorgious gold embossed bed,
With Tissue curtaines drawne against the sunne,
(Which gazers eies into amazement led,
So curiously the workmanship was done,)
Lay faire Cassandra� in her snowie smocke,
Whose lips the Rubies and the pearles did locke.



And from her Iuory front hung dangling downe,
A bush of long and louely curled haire;
VVhose head impalled with a precious Crowne
Of orient Pearle, made her to seeme more faire:
And yet more faire she hardly could be thought,
Then Loue and Nature in her face had wrought.



By this young Phoetus rising from the East,
Had tane a view of this rare Paragon:
Wherewith he soone his radiant beames addrest,
And with great ioy her (sleeping) gaz'd vpon:
Til at the iast, through her bright caze me~ts cleare,
He stole a kisse: and softly call'd her Deare.
 

Yet not so softly but (thetewith awak't,)
Shee gins to open her faire christ all couers,
Wherewith the wounded God, for terror quakt,
(Viewing those darts that kill disdained louers:)
And blushing red to see himselfe so shamed
He scorns his Coach, & his owne beauty blamed.



Now with a trice he leaues the azures skies,
(As whilome Ioue did at Europaes rape,)
And rauisht with her loue-aluring eies,
He turns himselfe into a humane shape:
And that his wish the sooner might ensue,
He sutes himselfe like one of Venus crew.



Vpon his head he wore a Hunters hat,
Of crimson veluet, spangd with stars of gold,
Which grac'd his louely face: and ouer that�
A siluer hatband ritchly to behold:
On his left shoulder hung a loose Tyara,
As whilome vs'd faire Penthesilea.



Faire Penthesilea th' Amazonian Queene,
When she to Troy came with her warlike band,
Of braue Viragoes glorious to be seene;
Whose manlike force no power might withstand:
So look't Apollo in his louely weedes,
As he vnto the I�roian Damzell speedes.



Not faire Adonis in his chiefest pride,
Did seeme more faire, then young Apollo seemed,
When he through th�aire inuisibly did glide,
T'obraine his Loue, which he Angelike deemed:
Whom finding in her chamber all alone,
He thus begins t'expresse his pitcous mone.



O fairest, faire, aboue all faires (quoth hee,)
If euer Loue obtained Ladies fauour,
Then shew thy selfe compassionate to me,
Whose heart surpriz'd with thy diuine behauiour,
Yeelds my selfe captiue to thy conqu'ring eies:
Oh then shew mercy, doe not tyrannize.
 

Scarce had Apollo vtter'd these last words,
Rayning downe pearle from his immortall cies,)
VVhen the for answere, naught but feare affords,
Filling the place with lamentable cries:
But Phoe bus fearing much these raging fits,
VVith sugred kisses sweetely charm'd her lips.



And tell's her softly in her softer eare,)
That he a God is, and no mortall creature:
Where with abandoning all needlesse feare,
(A common frailtie of weake womans nature)
She boldly askes him of his deitie,
Gracing her question with her wanton eie.



Which charge to him no sooner was assignde.
But taking faire Cassandra by the hand
(The [...]e be wraier of his secrete minde)
He first begins to let her vnderstand,
That he from Demogorgon was deseended:
Father ofth' Earth, of Gods & men commended.
 

The tenor of which tale he now recites,
Closing each period with a rauisht kisle:
VVhich kindnes, she vnwillingly requites,
Conioyning oft her Corrall lips to his:
Not that she lou'd the loue of any one;
But that she meant to cozen him anone.



Hee briefly t'her relates his pedegree:
The sonne of loue, sole guider of the sunne,
He that slue Pychon so victoriouslie,
He that the name of wisdomes God hath wonne,
The God of Musique, and of Poetry:
Of Phisicke, Learning, and Chirurgery.



All which he eloquently reckons vp,
That she might know how great a God he was:
And beeing charm'd with Cupids golden cup
He partiallie vnto her praise doth passe,
Calling her tipe of honour, Queene of beauty:
To whom all eies owe tributary duety.
 

I loued once, (quoth hee) aie me I lou'd,
As faire a shape as euer nature framed:
Had she not been so hard t'haue beene remou'd,
By birth a sea�Nymph; cruell Daphne named:
Whom, for shee would not to my will agree,
The Gods transform'd into a Laurell tree.



Ah therefore be not, (with that word he kist her)
Be not (quot he) so proud as Daphne was:
Ne care thou for the anger of my sister,
She cannot, nay she shall not hurt my Cass:
For if she doe, I vow (by dreadfull night)
Neuer againe to lend her of my light.



This said: he sweetly doth imbrace his loue�
Yoaking his armes about her Iuory necke:
And call's her wanton Venus milk-white Doue,
VVhose ruddie lips the damaske roses decke.
And euer as his tongue compiles her praise,
Loue daintie Dimples in her cheekes doth raise.
 

And meaning now to worke her stratagem
Vpon the silly God, that thinks none ill,
She hugs him in her armes, and kisses him;
Th' easlyer to intice him to her will.)
And being not able to maintaine the feeld,
Thus she begins (or rather seemes) to yeeld.



VVoon with thy words, and rauisht with thy beauty�
Loe here Cassandra yeelds her selfe to thee,
Requiring nothing for thy vowed duety,
But only firmnesle, Loue, and secrecy:
Which for that now (euen now) I mean to try thee
A boone I craue: which thou canst not deny me.



Scarce were these honywords breath'd from her lips,
But he, supposing that she ment good-faith�
Her filed tongues temptations interceps;
And (like a Nonice,) thus to her he saith:
Aske what thou wilt, and I will giue it thee;
Health, wealth, long life, wit, art, or dignitie.
 

Here-with she blushing red, (for shame did adde
A crimson tincture to her pa[...] hew,)
Seeming in outward semblance passing glad,
As one that th' end of her petition knew)
She makes him sweare by vgly Acheron,
That he his promise should performe anon.



VVhich done: relying on his sacred oath,
She askes of him the gift of prophecie:
He (silent) giues consent: though seeming loath
To graunt so much to fraile mortallitie:
But since that he his vowes ma[...]e not recall,
He giues to her the sp'irite propheticall.



But she no sooner had obtain'd her wish,
VVhen straite vnpr[...]s'ning her lasciuious armes
From his softe bosome (th'aluary of blisse)
She chastely counterchecks loues hote allarmes:
And fearing left his presence might offend her,
She slips aside: and (absent) doth defend her.
(Multere ne credas, ne mortuae quidem.)
 

Looke how a brightsome Planet in the skie,
(Spangling the Welkin with a golden spot)
Shootes suddenly from the beholders eie,
And leaues him looking there where she is not:
Euen so amazed Phoebus (to discrie her)
Lookes all about, but no where can espie her.



Not th'hungry Lyon, hauing lost his pray,
VVith greater furie runneth through the wood,
(Making no signe of momentarie staie,
Till he haue satisfi'd himselfe with blood,)
Then angry Phoe us mounts into the skie:
Threatning the world with his hot-burning eie.



Now nimbly to his glist'ring Coach he skips,
And churlishlie ascend's his loftie chaire,
Yerking his head strong lades with yron whips,
Whose fearefull neighing ecchoes through the aire,
Snorting out fierie Sulphure from their nosethrils:
Whose deadly damp the worlds poore people kils.
 

Him leaue me (for a while) amids the heauens,
VVreaking his anger on his sturdie steedes:
Whose speedful course the day & night now ceuens,
(The earth dis-robed of her summer weedes)
And nowe black-mantled night with her browne vaile,
Couers each thing that all the world might quaile.



VVhen loe, Cassandra lying at her rest,
(Her rest were restlesse thoughts:) it so befell,
Her minde with multitude of cares opprest,
Requir'd some sleepe her passions to expell:
VVhich when sad Morpheus well did vnderstand,
He clos'd her cie-lids with his leaden hand.



Now sleepeth shee: and as she sleepes, beholde;
Shee seemes to see the God whom late shee wronged
Standing before her; whose fierce lookes vnfold�
His hidden wrath (to whom instire belonged)
Seeing, shee fighs, and sighing quak't for feare,
To see the shaddow of her shame appeare.
 

Betwixt amaze and dread as shee thus stands,
The fearefull vision drew more neere vnto her:
And pynioning her armes in captiue bands
So sure, that mortall wight may not vndoe her,
He with a bloudy knife (oh cruell part,)
VVith raging fury stabd her to the heart.



Heerewith awaking from her slumbring sleepe,
(For feare, and care, are enemies to rest:)
At such time as Aurora gins to peepe
And shew her selfe; far orient in the East:
Shee heard a voice which said: O wicked woman
Why dost thou stil the gods to vengeance summon



Thou shale (indeede) fore�tell of things to come;
And truely too; (for why my vowes are past)
But heare the end of Iowes eternall doome:
Because thy promise did so little last,
Although thou tell the truth, (this gift I giue thee)
Yet for thy falsehood, no man shall belecue thee.
 

And (for thy sake) this pennance I impose
Vpon the remnant of all woman kinde,
For that they be such truth professed foes;
A constant woman shall be hard to finde:
And that all flesh at my dread name may tremble,
Whe~ they weep most, the~ shal they most dissemble.



This said Apollo then: And since that time
His words haue proued true as Oracles:
Whose turning thoughtes ambitiously doe clime
To heauens height; and world with lightnes fils[...]
VVhose sex are subiect to inconstancie,
As other creatures are to destinie.



Yet famous Sabrine on thy banks dost rest
The fairest Maide that euer world admired:
Whose constant minde, with heauenly giftes possest,
Makes her rare selfe of all the world desired,
In whose chaste thoughts no vanitie doth enter;
So pure a minde Endymions Loue hath lent her.
 

Queene of my thoughts, but subiect of my verse,
(Diuine Eliza) pardon my defect:
Whose artlesse pen so rudely doth reherse
Thy beauties worth; (for want of due respect)
Oh pardon thou the fullies of my youth;
Pardon my faith, my loue, my zeale, my truth.



But to Cassandra now: who hauing heard
The cruell sentence of the threatning voice;
At length (too late) begins to waxe affeard,
Lamenting much her vnrepentant choice:
And seeing her hard hap without reliefe,
She sheeds salt teares in token of her griefe.



VVhich when Aurora saw, and saw t'was shee,
Euen shee her selfe whose far-renowmed fame
Made all the world to wonder at her beauty,
It mou'd compassion in this ruthfull Dame:
And thinking on her Sonnes sad destnie.
With mournfull teares she beares her companie.
 

Great was the mone, which faire Cassandra made:
Greater the kindnesse, which Aurora shew'd:
VVhose sorrow with the sunne began to fade;
And her moist teares on th'earths greene grasse bestow'd:
Kissing the flowers with her siluer dew.
VVhose fading beautie, seem'd her case to rew.



Scarce was the louely Easterne Queene departed,
From stately Ilion; (whose proud-reared wals
Seem'd to controule the cloudes, till Vulcan darted
Against their Towers his burning fier-bals)
When sweet Cassandra (leauing her soft bed)
In seemely sort her selfe apparelled.



And hearing that her honourable Sire,
(Old princely Pryamus Troy's aged King)
Was gone into Ioues Temple, to conspire
Against the Greekes, (whom he to war did bring)
Shee (like a Furie (in a bedlam rage,
Runs gadding thither, his fell wrath t'asswage.
 

But not preuailing: truely she fore-tolde
The fall of Troy, (with bold orected face:)
They count her hare-braind, mad, and ouer-hold,
To presse in presence in so graue a place:
But in meane season Paris he is gone,
To bring destruction on faire Ilion.



What, ten-yeeres siedge by force could not subuert,
That, two false traitors in one night destroi'd:
Who richly guerdon'd for their bad desert,
VVas of Aeneas but small time inio[...]'d:
VVho, for concealement of Achilles loue,
VVas banished; from Ilion to remoue.



King Pryam dead and all the Troians slaine;
(His sonnes, his friends and deare confederates)
And lots now cast for captines that remaine,
(Whom Death hath spared for more cruell fates)
Cassandra then to Agamemnon fell,
With whom a Lemman she disdain'd to dwell.
 

She, weepes; he, wooes; he, would, but she would not�
He, tell's his birth; shee, pleades virginitie:
He saith, selfe pride doth rarest beauty blot:
(And with that word he kist her louingly:)
Shee, yeeldingly resists; he fair es to die:
Shee, fall's for feare; he, on her feareleslie.



But this braue generall of all the Greekes,
VVas quickly foyled at a womans hands,
For who so rashly such in counters seekes,
Of hard mis-hap in danger euer stands:
Onely chaste thoughts, and vertuous abstinence,
Gainst such sweet poyson is the sur'st defence.



But who can shun the force of beauties blow?
Who is not rauisht with a louely looke?
Grac'd with a wanton eie, (the hearts dumb shew)
Such fish are taken with a filuer hooke:
And when true loue cannot these pearls obtaine,
Vnguentum Album is the only meane.
 

Farre be it from my thought (duinest Maid)
To haue relation to thy heauenly hew�
(In whose sweet voice the Muses are imbaid)
No pen can paint thy commendations due:
Saue only that pen, which no pen can be,
An Angels quill, to make a pen for thee.



But to returne to these vnhappie Louers,
(Sleeping securely in each others armes,)
VVhose sugred ioies nights sable mantle couers,
Little regarding their ensuing harmes:
VVhich afterward they iointhe both repented:
"Fate is fore-seene, but neuer is preuented.



VVhich saying to be true, this lucklesse Dame
Approued in the sequele of her story:
Now waxing pale, now blushing red (for shame)
Shee seales her lips with silence, (womens glory)
Till, Agamemnon vrging her replies,
Thus of his death she truely prophecies.
 

The day shall come, (quoth she) � dismall daie!
When thou by false Aegistus shalt be slaine:
Heere could she tell no more; but made a stay.
(From further speech as willing to refraine:)
Not knowing then, nor little did she thinke,
That she with him of that same cup must drinke.



But what? (fond man) he laughes her skil to scorne,
And icsteth at her diuination:
Ah to what vnbeliefe are Princes borne?
(The onely ouer-throw of many a Nation:)
And so it did befall this lucklesse Prince,
Whom all the world hath much lamented since:



Insteede of teares, he smileth at hertale:
Insteede of griese, he makes great shew of gladnes:
But after blisse, there euer followes bale;
And after mirth, there alwaiys commeth sadnes:
But gladnesse, blisse, and mirth had so possest him,
That sadnes, bale, & griefe, could not molest him.
 

Oh cruell Parcoe (quoth Cassandra then)
Why are you Parce, yet not mou'd with praier?
Oh small security of mortall men,
That liue on earth, and breathe this vitall aire�
When we laugh most, then are we next to sorrow;
The Birds feede vs to day, we them to morrow.



But if the first did little moue his minde,
Her later speeches lesse with him preuailed;
Who being wholy bent to selfe-will inclinde,
Deemes her weake braine with lunacy assailed:
And still the more shee councels him to stay,
The more he striueth to make haste away.



How on the Seas he seap'd stormes, rocks & sholes,
(Seas that enuide the conquest he had wone,
Gaping like hell to swallow Greekish soules,)
I heere omit; onely suppose it done:
His storm-tyrde Barke safely brings him to shore,
His whole Fleete els, or suncke or lost before.
 

Lift vp thy head, thou ashie-cyndred Troy,
See the commaunder of thy traitor foes,
That made thy last nights woe, his first daies ioie,
Now gins his night of ioy and daie of wees:
His fall be thy d light, thine was his pride:
As he thee then, so now thou him deride.



He and Cassandra now are set on shore,
VVhich he salutes with ioy, she greetes with teares,
Currors are sent that poast to Court before,
Whose tidings hll [...]h'adultrous Queene with feares,
Who with Aegistus in a lost staind bed,
Her selfe, her King, her state dishonored.



Shee wakes the lecher with a loud-straind shrike,
Loue-toies they leaue, now doth loment begin:
Ile flie (quoth he) our she doth that mislike,
Guilt vnto guilt, and sinne she ad to sinne:
Shee meanes to kill (immodest loue to couer)
A kingly husband, for a caytiue louer.
 

The peoples ioies, conceiued at his returne,
Their thronging multitudes: their gladsome cries,
Their gleeful hymnes, whiles piles of incense burne:
Their publique shewes, kept at solemnities:
We passe: and tell how King & Queene did meet,
Where he with zeale, she him with guile did greet.



He (noble Lord) fearelesse of hidden treason,
Sweetely salutes this weeping Crocodile:
Excusing euery cause with instant reason
That kept him from her sight so long a while:
Shee, faintly pardons him: smiling by Art:
(For life was in her lookes, death in her hart.)



For pledge that I am pleas'd receiue (quoth shee,)
This rich wrought robe, thy Clytemnestraes toile:
Her ten yeeres worke this day shall honour thee,
For ten yeeres war, and one daies glorious spoile:
Whil'st thou contendedst there, I heere did this:
Weare it my loue, my life, my ioy, my blisse,
 

Searce had the Syren said, what I haue writ,
But he (kind Prince) by her milde words misled,
Receiu'd the robe, to trie if it were fit;
(The robe) that had no issue for his head:
Which, whil'st he vainly hoped to haue found,
Aegistaes pierst him with a mortal wound.



Oh how the Troyan Damzell was amazed,
To see so fell and bloudy a Tragedie,
Performed in one Act: she naught but gazed,
Vpon the picture; whom she dead did see,
Before her face: whose body she emballms,
With brennish teares, and sudden deadly qualms.



Faine would she haue fled backe on her swift horse,
But Clytemnestra bad her be content,
Her time was com'n: now bootelesse vs'd she force,
Against so many; whom this Tygresse sent
To apprehene her: who (within one hower
Brought backe againe) was lockt within a Tower.
 

Now is she ioylesse, friendlesse, and (in fine)
VVithout all hope of further libertie:
In steed of cates, cold water was her wine,
And Agamemnons corps her meate must be,
Or els she must for hunger starue (poore sole)
What could she do but make great mone & dole.



So darke the dungeon was, wherein she was,
That neither Sunne (by day) nor Mone (by night)
Did shew themselues: and thus it came to passe.
The Sunne denide to lend his glorious light
To such a periur'd wight, or to be seene;
(What neede shee light, that ouer-light had bin?



Now silent night drew on: when all things sleepe,
Saue theeues, & cares: & now stil mid-night came:
VVhen sad Cassandra did naught els but weepe;
Oft calling on her Agamemnons name.
But seeing that the dead did not replie,
Thus she begins to mourne, lament, and crie.
 

Oh cruell Fortune, (mother of dispaire,)
Well art thou christen'd with a cruell name:
Since thou regardest not the wise, or faire,
But do'st bestow thy riches (to thy shame)
On fooles & lowly swaines, that care not for thee�
And yet I weepe, and yet thou do'st abhorre me,



Fie on ambition, fie on filthy pride,
The roote of ill, the cause of all my woe:
On whose fraile yee my youth first slipt aside:
And falling downe� receru'd a fatall blow.
Ah who hath liu'd to see such miserie
As I haue done, and yet I cannot die?



I liu'd (quoth she) to see Troy set a fire:
I liu'd to see, renowmed Hector slaine:
I liu'd to see, the shame of my desire:
And yet I liue, to feele more grienous paine:
Let all young maides example take by me,
To keepe their oathes, and spotlesse chastity,
 

Happy are they, that neuer liu'd to know
What t'is to liue in this world happily:
Happy are they which neuer yet felt woe:
Happy are they, that die in infancie:
Whose sins are cancell'd in their mothers wombe:
Whose cradle is their graue, whose lap their tomb.



Here ended shee: & then her teares began,
That (Chorus-like) at euery word downe rained,
VVhich like a paire of christall fountaines ran,
A long her louely cheekes: with roses stained:
VVhich as they wither still (for want of raine)
Those siluer showers water them againe.



Now had the poore-mans clock (shrili chauntcleare)
Twice giuen notice of the Mornes approach,
(That then began in glorie to appeare,
Drawne in her stately colour'd saffron-Coach)
VVhen shee (poore Lady) almost turn'd to teares,
Began to teare and rend her golden haires.
 

Lie there (quoth shee) the workers of my woes;
You trifling toies, which my liues staine haue bin�
You, by whose meanes our coines chiefly growes,
Clothing the backe with pride, the soule with sin:
Lie there (quoth shee) the causers of my care;
This said, her robes shee all in peeces tare.



Here-with, as weary of her wretched life,
(VVhich shee inioy'd with small faelicitie)
Thee ends her fortune with a fatall knife;
(First day of ioy, last day of miserie:)
Then why is death accounted Natures foe,
Since death (indeed) is but the end of woe?



For as by death, her bodie was released
From that strong prison made of lime and stone;
Euen so by death her purest soule was cased,
From bodies prison, and from endlesse mone:
VVhere now shee walkes in sweete Elysium,
(The place for wrongful Death and Martirdum.)

 

FINIS.