Volume III Part 29 (1/2)

Marlowe appears to have read ”Qui tibi concubitus,” &c.

ELEGIA XI.[419]

Ad amicam a cujus amore discedere non potest.

Long have I borne much, mad thy faults me make; Dishonest love, my wearied breast forsake!

Now have I freed myself, and fled the chain, And what I have borne, shame to bear again.

We vanquish, and tread tamed love under feet, Victorious wreaths[420] at length my temples greet.

Suffer, and harden: good grows by this grief, Oft bitter juice brings to the sick relief.

I have sustained, so oft thrust from the door, To lay my body on the hard moist floor. 10 I know not whom thou lewdly didst embrace, When I to watch supplied a servant's place.

I saw when forth a tired lover went.

His side past service, and his courage spent, Yet this is less than if he had seen me; May that shame fall mine enemies' chance to be.

When have not I, fixed to thy side, close laid?

I have thy husband, guard, and fellow played.

The people by my company she pleased; My love was cause that more men's love she seized. 20 What, should I tell her vain tongue's filthy lies, And, to my loss, G.o.d-wronging perjuries?

What secret becks in banquets with her youths, With privy signs, and talk dissembling truths?

Hearing her to be sick, I thither ran, But with my rival sick she was not than.

These hardened me, with what I keep obscure:[421]

Some other seek, who will these things endure.

Now my s.h.i.+p in the wished haven crowned, With joy hears Neptune's swelling waters sound. 30 Leave thy once-powerful words, and flatteries, I am not as I was before, unwise.

Now love and hate my light breast each way move, But victory, I think, will hap to love.

I'll hate, if I can; if not, love 'gainst my will, Bulls hate the yoke, yet what they hate have still.

I fly her l.u.s.t, but follow beauty's creature, I loathe her manners, love her body's feature.

Nor with thee, nor without thee can I live, And doubt to which desire the palm to give. 40 Or less fair, or less lewd would thou might'st be: Beauty with lewdness doth right ill agree.

Her deeds gain hate, her face entreateth love; Ah, she doth more worth than her vices prove!

Spare me, oh, by our fellow bed, by all The G.o.ds, who by thee, to be perjured fall.[422]

And by thy face to me a power divine, And by thine eyes, whose radiance burns out mine!

Whate'er thou art, mine art thou: choose this course, Wilt have me willing, or to love by force. 50 Rather I'll hoist up sail, and use the wind, That I may love yet, though against my mind.

FOOTNOTES:

[419] Not in Isham copy or ed. A.

[420] The original has ”Venerunt capiti cornua sera meo.”

[421] ”Et que taceo.”

[422] ”Qui dant fallendos se tibi saepe, deos.”

ELEGIA XII.[423]

Dolet amicam suam ita suis carminibus innotuisse ut rivales multos sibi pararit.

What day was that, which all sad haps to bring, White birds to lovers did not[424] always sing?