The Constancy of True Loue, OR. An Excellent Relation of the Vntimely Death of Two Faithfull Louers. To the tune of Downe by a Forrest
IN that faire fragrant month of May,
When earth her curtaines doth display,
I did by chance my corps repose
Upon a banke, which Woods did close,
With greene and leauy bowres about;
A place to shunne the teadious rout
Of
Tibs and
Toms, for this intent,
This flowrie seat I did frequent.
Nature had stroue to shew her feate
In the composure of this seat;
For in a U
[...]lley plaine was found,
This place by hills incircled round.
Both lofty Beech and C
[...]dars tall
Did shelter this rich Siluan hall.
Heere Satires and the Naiades,
Here Siluans and the Driades,
Here rurall gods and tripping Nymphs,
Did hath their corps in the pure lymphs,
And christal streams which made a noise
In compassing this place of ioyes.
No fairer place nor fountaine found
Dian' with golden tresses crown'd,
And Lad
[...] guarded in this seate,
the wihstling wind cool'd summers heat
Here the nine Muses vs
[...]e to dance,
Here the kind graces vsde in prance;
Here
Phaebe his warbling harpe did tune,
The lifesome monthes of
May &
Iune.
Here
Philomel tun'd melody.
Hither the chirping birds did fly,
Here Thrush & blackbird frō their throats
strain'd diuers sundry pleasant notes,
Here the Nymph
Eccho in bellow ground
Di
[...] the la
[...]
[...] resound;
What harbour could the world spare
more trim, more neat, more sweet more tare?
Here as I sate musing alone,
Me thought I heard one grieue and groane,
Ah me poore wretch, this creature said,
Where at my senses grew afraid.
I started looking here and there,
To viewe the subject of this feare:
A Lady obiect to mine eyes,
I sound the effect of all these cryes;
I hasted to enquire the c
[...]use
Which did her weeping eyes amaze:
Behold, quoth mee, my Loue (alas)
Whose crimson blood here dyes the grasse.
The sweetest creature here lyeth dead,
That famous
Europe euer bred;
I haue my wronged Louer slaine,
His death shall be the death of twaine.
I praid her then for to relate,
The cause of his vntimely fate;
She then scarse fetching of her breath,
Beginnes the Story of his death.
Blinde
Cupid (quoth she) with his dart,
In tender yeares did wound his heart,
Made subiect to the loue of me,
An actor of this tragedie.
His heart and mind together tried,
His loue and mine together ti'ed,
Our parents sought to crosse our will,
But we continued constant still.
Though time the disaduantage gaue,
And we no place for loue could haue,
Yet still we sought to recompence,
Loue with true loue without offence.
We dwelt in neighbouring houses ni
[...],
And getting conference thereby;
We did appoint vnder this tree
Is meat but disapointed bee.
The second part, To the same tune.
VVHen bright
Aurora péeped out,
And
Phaebus newly look'd about,
I first (according to my vow)
made haste vnto this plighted bough:
Héere as I stayed for my Loue,
Whose comming over-late did proue,
A Lyon with inhumane pawes,
Came to that well to coole his iawes.
His mouth was all with blood besmear'd,
This instrument of Death I fear'd,
I sted to hide my selfe for feare,
And left behind my mantle there.
The Lyon hauing sl
[...]k'd his thirst,
Ran where I left my garment first,
But when hee saw no place for prey.
He s
[...]u
[...]'d with blood my Liuerie:
And hauing m
[...]s
[...]ed thus the same,
Thither he went whence first he came:
But I knew not that hee was gone,
And therefore stayd I hid alone.
In the meane time (Oh griefe) came hée,
Who promis'd ha
[...] to meet with mée,
And vnder this our plighted bough,
He sought performance of our vow.
Hee found not mée, but found my Coat,
All bloudied by the Lyons throat,
Which when he saw with bloud belayd,
My absence made him sore afraid:
What should he thinke, but that some beast,
Upon my carkasse made his Feast:
He thought that the grim Lyons whelpe,
Devoured mee being voyd of helpe.
While hée these events thus did brooke,
The instrument of death he tooke,
A naked sword, which by his side,
Ready for Combats hee had tyed:
I haue, quoth hee, wrought my Loues death,
The end of her shall end my breath,
And thereupon thr
[...]st to the hilt
His sword, and thus his blood he spilt.
That the first Passenger might know,
The dismall euents of this woe,
He wrote and pinn'd a note thereof,
Upon his Hatt to shew the proofe:
Which I being voyd of seare at last,
And thinking all the danger past,
Returning from that hideous bed,
Whereto I from the Lyon fled,
I found this Copie of his death,
And his dead carkasse voyd of breath:
No sch
[...]
[...]o sighes no griefes, no groanes,
No trickling teares, no mournful m
[...]nes,
No ejaculations, no cries,
No dolefull Dittie. or Elegies,
Shall serue for to be
[...]asle his end,
Which for my loue his life did spend.
In life his loue did mee pursue,
But by his death hee prou'd it true:
If he then for my s
[...]k
[...]
[...]id die,
As much for him why should not I?
Since death hath vs denied our right,
Then friendly death shall vs vnite,
And I will follow him in haste,
Who thought he followed me being past.
These words assoone as shée had spoke,
Shee gaue her selfe a deadly stroke:
Shee drew the sword out of his breast,
And in her owne the same shee thrust.
And as in life their hearts were one,
So are their liues together gone,
In spight of parents, time or place,
Fond loue will runne his wished race.
Thus haue you heard a Tragedy
Acted by louers constancy,
God send such louers better spéed,
Where feruency true Loue doth breed.
FINIS.
Imprinted at London for Francis Coules and are to be sould at his shop in the Old-Bayley.