10

And with how free an eye doth he look down
Upon these lower regions of turmoil?
Where all the storms of passions mainly beat
On flesh and blood: where honour, power,
renown,

Are only gay afflictions, golden toil;
Where greatness stands upon as feeble feet
As frailty doth; and only great doth seem
To little minds, who do it so esteem.

He looks upon the mightiest monarch's wars
But only as on stately robberies;
Where evermore the fortune that prevails
Must be the right: the ill-succeeding mars
The fairest and the best-fac'd enterprise.
Great pirate Pompey lesser pirates quails:
Justice, he sees (as if seduced) still

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20

Conspires with power, whose cause must not be ill.

He sees the face of right t' appear as manifold 25
As are the passions of uncertain man;
Who puts it in all colours, all attires,

To serve his ends, and make his courses hold.
He sees, that let deceit work what it can,
Plot and contrive base ways to high desires; 30
That the all-guiding Providence doth yet
All disappoint, and mocks the smoke of wit.
Nor is he mov'd with all the thunder-cracks
Of tyrant's threats, or with the surly brow
Of Pow'r, that proudly sits on others' crimes: 35
Charg'd with more crying sins than those he
checks.

The storms of sad confusion, that may grow
Up in the present for the coming times,
Appal not him; that hath no side at all,
But of himself, and knows the worst can 40
fall. . . .

And whereas none rejoice more in revenge;
Than women use to do; yet you well know,
That wrong is better check'd by being con-
temn'd,

Than being pursu'd; leaving him t' avenge,
To whom it appertains. Wherein you show 45
How worthily your clearness hath condemn'd
Base malediction, living in the dark,
That at the rays of goodness still doth bark.

Knowing the heart of man is set to be
The centre of this world, about the which
These revolutions of disturbances
Still roll; where all th' aspects of misery
Predominate: whose strong effects are such,
As he must bear, being pow'rless to redress:
And that unless above himself he can
Erect himself, how poor a thing is man.

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55

And how turmoil'd they are that level lie
With earth, and cannot lift themselves from
thence;

That never are at peace with their desires,
But work beyond their years; and ev'n deny 60
Dotage her rest, and hardly will dispense
With death. That when ability expires,
Desire lives still-So much delight they have,
To carry toil and travel to the grave.

5

Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part,
Nay I have done, you get no more of me;
And I am glad, yea glad with all my heart,
That thus so cleanly I myself can free;
Shake hands forever, cancel all our vows,
And when we meet at any time again,
Be it not seen in either of our brows
That we one jot of former love retain.
Now at the last gasp of Love's latest breath,
When his pulse failing, Passion speechless lies, 10
When Faith is kneeling by his bed of death,
And Innocence is closing up his eyes:

Now if thou would'st, when all have given him over,

From death to life thou might'st him yet re

Which he neglects the while,
As from a nation vile,
Yet with an angry smile,
Their fall portending;

And, turning to his men,
Quoth famous Henry then,
"Though they to one be ten,
Be not amazed;

Yet have we well begun,
Battles so bravely won
Ever more to the sun

By fame are raised.

"And for myself," quoth he,
"This my full rest shall be,
England ne'er mourn for me,
Nor more esteem me.
Victor I will remain,
Or on this earth be slain,
Never shall she sustain

Loss to redeem me.

"Poyters and Cressy tell, When most their pride did swell, Under our swords they fell,

No less our skill is

Than when our grandsire great,
Claiming the regal seat,
In many a warlike feat

Lopp'd the French lilies."
The Duke of York2 so dread,
The eager vaward led;
With the main Henry sped,

Amongst his henchmen.3
Excester had the rear,
A braver man not there,
And now preparing were

For the false Frenchman,
And ready to be gone,
Armor on armor shone,
Drum unto drum did groan,

To hear was wonder;

That with the cries they make
The very earth did shake,
Trumpet to trumpet spake,

Thunder to thunder.

Well it thine age became,
O noble Erpingham,"

Thou did'st the signal frame

Unto the forces;

70

The English archery

15.

Stuck the French horses.

The Spanish yew so strong,

Which in his height of pride,

As Henry to deride,

His ransom to provide

Unto him sending;

20

1 The Britons of Cambria, or Wales, as distinguished from the Britons of Cornwall and Armorica. The harp was intimately associated with the Welsh poetry as it was with that of Celtic Ireland.

Arrows a cloth-yard long, That like to serpents stong,

Piercing the wether;

75

Edward, second Duke of York, and grandson of Edward III.

3 Followers.

4 Sir Thomas Erpingham, "who threw up his truncheon as a signal to the English forces, who lay in ambush, to advance."

On happy Crispin day? Fought was this noble fray, Which fame did not delay To England to carry;

O when shall Englishmen, With such acts fill a pen? Or England breed again Such a King Harry?

95

And cheerfully at sea,

Success you still intice,

To get the pearl and gold,
And ours to hold,

Virginia,

Earth's only paradise...

When as the luscious smell

Of that delicious land,

Above the seas that flows,
The clear wind throws,

Your hearts to swell
Approaching the dear strand;

In kenning1 of the shore
(Thanks to God first given),
O you the happy 'st men,
Be frolic then,

Let cannons roar,

Frighting the wide heaven.

105

And in regions far

Such heroes bring ye forth,

As those from whom we came,

And plant our name

Under that starre

110

Not known unto our North.

100

115

FROM THE "VIRGINIAN VOYAGE”

You brave heroic minds,

Worthy your countries name,

That honour still pursue,

Go, and subdue,

Whilst loit' ring hinds

Lurke here at home with shame.

120

Swords. From Bilboa in Spain, a town famous for its blades.

Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, younger brother of the king. Thomas, Duke of Clarence, alluded to here as Clarence, was also the King's brother.

7 The Feast of Crispin, Saint and martyr. which falls on Oct. 25th.

Christopher Marlowe

1564-1593

THE PASSIONATE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE

45

50

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55

(In The Passionate Pilgrim, 1599, enlarged
form in England's Helicon, 1600)
Come live with me, and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove,
That valleys, grovès,' hills and fields,
Woods or steepy mountains yields.

And we will sit upon the rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks
By shallow rivers, to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.

And I will make thee beds of roses,
And a thousand fragrant posies,
A cap of flowers and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;

Holla, ye pampered jades of Asia!
What! can ye draw but twenty miles a day,
And have so proud a chariot at your heels,
And such a coachman as great Tamburlaine,
But from Asphaltis, where I conquered you, 5
To Byron here, where thus I honour you?
The horse that guide the golden eye of Heaven,
And blow the morning from their nosterils,
Making their fiery gait above the clouds,
Are not so honoured in their governor,
As you, ye slaves, in mighty Tamburlaine.
The headstrong jades of Thrace Alcides tamed,
That King Egeus fed with human flesh,
And made so wanton, that they knew their
strengths,

10

1 Tamburlaine, or Tamerlaine, i. e. the Tartar conqueror Timur or Timour (1333-1405), who subdued Persia, central Asia, and finally a great part of India. The first part of Marlowe's Tamburlaine was acted in 1587.

2 Rule.

1 We must imagine Tamburlaine, in this scene, standing in his chariot, which is drawn by the conquered Kings of Trebizond and Syria. The Kings have bits in their mouths, and Tamburlaine drives them before him, lashing them with his whip.

Were not subdued with valour more divine Than you by this unconquered arm of mine. To make you fierce, and fit my appetite, You shall be fed with flesh as raw as blood, And drink in pails the strongest muscadel; If you can live with it, then live, and draw My chariot swifter than the racking clouds; If not, then die like beasts, and fit for naught But perches for the black and fatal ravens, Thus am I right the highest scourge of Jove; And see the figure of my dignity

By which I hold my name and majesty!

FAUSTUS' VISION OF HELEN

(From Doctor Faustus, Pub. 1604)

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I will be Paris, and for love of thee,
Instead of Troy, shall Wittenberg be sacked;
And I will combat with weak Menelaus,
And wear thy colours on my plumèd crest:
Yea I will wound Achilles in the heel,
And then return to Helen for a kiss.
Oh! thou art fairer than the evening air
Clad in the beauty of a thousand stars;
Brighter art thou than flaming Jupiter,
When he appeared to hapless Semele;
More lovely than the monarch of the sky
In wanton Arethusa's azure arms;

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And none but thou shalt be my paramour! 20

FAUSTUS FULFILS HIS COMPACT
WITH THE DEVIL

(From the same, Act V. sc. IV.)

Oh, Faustus!
Now hast thou but one bare hour to live,
And then thou must be damned perpetually.
Stand still you ever-moving spheres of heaven,1
That time may cease, and midnight never

come.

Fair nature's eye, rise, rise again, and make
Perpetual day; or let this hour be but
A year, a month, a week, a natural day,
That Faustus may repent and save his soul.
O lente lente currite noctis equi!

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10

The stars move still, time runs, the clock will strike,

The devil will come, and Faustus must be damned.

Oh, I'll leap up to heaven!-Who pulls me down?

See where Christ's blood streams in the firmament:

1 The transparent spheres which, according to the Ptolomaic system of astronomy envelope and move about the earth.

O run slowly, slowly, ye coursers of night.