Lucasta

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III.
Yet happy he, that can but tast
This whiter skin, who thirsty is!
Fooles dote on sattin<58.2> motions lac'd:
The gods go naked in their blisse.
At<58.3> th' barrell's head there shines the vine,
There only relishes the wine.

IV.
There quench my heat, and thou shalt sup
Worthy the lips that it must touch,
Nectar from out the starry cup:
I beg thy breath not halfe so much.
So both our wants supplied shall be,
You'l give for love, I, charity.

V.
Cheape then are pearle-imbroderies,
That not adorne, but cloud<58.4> thy wast;
Thou shalt be cloath'd above all prise,
If thou wilt promise me imbrac't.<58.5>
Wee'l ransack neither chest nor shelfe:
Ill cover thee with mine owne selfe.

VI.
But, cruel, if thou dost deny
This necessary almes to me,
What soft-soul'd man but with his eye
And hand will hence be shut to thee?
Since all must judge you more unkinde:
I starve your body, you, my minde.

<58.1> Original reads WA'ST.

<58.2> Satin seems to have been much in vogue about this time
as a material for female dress.
"Their glory springs from sattin,
Their vanity from feather."
A DESCRIPTION OF WOMAN in WITS INTERPRETER, 1662, p. 115.

<58.3> Original has AND.

<58.4> Original reads CLOUDS.

<58.5> i.e. TO BE embraced.

[A DIALOGUE BETWIXT CORDANUS AND AMORET, ON A LOST HEART.

Cord. Distressed pilgrim, whose dark clouded eyes
Speak thee a martyr to love's cruelties,
Whither away?
Amor. What pitying voice I hear,
Calls back my flying steps?
Cord. Pr'ythee, draw near.
Amor. I shall but say, kind swain, what doth become
Of a lost heart, ere to Elysium
It wounded walks?
Cord. First, it does freely flye
Into the pleasures of a lover's eye;
But, once condemn'd to scorn, it fetter'd lies,
An ever-bowing slave to tyrannies.
Amor. I pity its sad fate, since its offence
Was but for love. Can<59.1> tears recall it thence?
Cord. O no, such tears, as do for pity call,
She proudly scorns, and glories at their fall.
Amor. Since neither sighs nor tears, kind shepherd, tell,
Will not a kiss prevail?
Cord. Thou may'st as well
Court Eccho with a kiss.
Amor. Can no art move
A sacred violence to make her love?
Cord. O no! 'tis only Destiny or<59.2> Fate
Fashions our wills either to love or hate.
Amor. Then, captive heart, since that no humane spell
Hath power to graspe thee his, farewell.
Cord.<59.3> Farewell.
Cho. Lost hearts, like lambs drove from their folds by fears,
May back return by chance, but not<59.4> by tears.]<59.5>

<59.1> So Cotgrave. Lawes, and after him Singer, read CAN'T.

<59.2> So Cotgrave. Lawes and Singer read AND.

<59.3> Omitted by Lawes and Singer: I follow Cotgrave.

<59.4> So Cotgrave. Lawes printed NE'ER.

<59.5> This is taken from AYRES AND DIALOGUES FOR ONE, TWO,
AND THREE VOYCES, By Henry Lawes, 1653-5-8, where it is set
to music for two trebles by H. L. It was not included in the
posthumous collection of Lovelace's poems. This dialogue
is also found in WITS INTERPRETER, by J. Cotgrave, 1662, 8vo,
page 203 (first printed in 1655), and a few improved readings
have been adopted from that text.

COMMENDATORY AND OTHER VERSES,
PREFIXED TO VARIOUS PUBLICATIONS BETWEEN 1638 AND 1647

AN ELEGIE.
PRINCESSE KATHERINE<60.1><> BORNE, CHRISTENED, BURIED,
IN ONE DAY.

You, that can haply<60.2> mixe your joyes with cries,
And weave white Ios with black Elegies,
Can caroll out a dirge, and in one breath
Sing to the tune either of life, or death;
You, that can weepe the gladnesse of the spheres,
And pen a hymne, in stead of inke, with teares;
Here, here your unproportion'd wit let fall,
To celebrate this new-borne funerall,
And greete that little greatnesse, which from th' wombe
Dropt both a load to th' cradle and the tombe.

Bright soule! teach us, to warble with what feet
Thy swathing linnen and thy winding sheet,
Weepe,<60.3> or shout forth that fonts solemnitie,
Which at once christn'd and buried<60.4> thee,
And change our shriller passions with that sound,
First told thee into th' ayre, then to<60.5> the ground.

Ah, wert thou borne for this? only to call
The King and Queen guests to your buriall!
To bid good night, your day not yet begun,
And shew<60.6> a setting, ere a rising sun!

Or wouldst thou have thy life a martyrdom?
Dye in the act of thy religion,
Fit, excellently, innocently good,
First sealing it with water, then thy blood?
As when on blazing wings a blest man sores,
And having past to God through fiery dores,
Straight 's roab'd with flames, when the same element,
Which was his shame, proves now his ornament;
Oh, how he hast'ned death, burn't to be fryed,<60.7>
Kill'd twice with each delay, till deified.
So swift hath been thy race, so full of flight,
Like him condemn'd, ev'n aged with a night,
Cutting all lets with clouds, as if th' hadst been
Like angels plum'd, and borne a Cherubin.

Or, in your journey towards heav'n, say,
Tooke you the world a little in your way?
Saw'st and dislik'st its vaine pompe, then didst flye
Up for eternall glories to the skye?
Like a religious ambitious one,
Aspiredst for the everlasting crowne?

Ah! holy traytour to your brother prince,
Rob'd of his birth-right and preheminence!
Could you ascend yon' chaire of state e're him,
And snatch from th' heire the starry diadem?
Making your honours now as much uneven,
As gods on earth are lesse then saints in heav'n.

Triumph! sing triumphs, then! Oh, put on all
Your richest lookes, drest for this festivall!
Thoughts full of ravisht reverence, with eyes
So fixt, as when a saint we canonize;
Clap wings with Seraphins before the throne
At this eternall coronation,
And teach your soules new mirth, such as may be
Worthy this birth-day to divinity.

But ah! these blast your feasts, the jubilies
We send you up are sad, as were our cries,
And of true joy we can expresse no more
Thus crown'd, then when we buried thee before.

Princesse in heav'n, forgivenes! whilst we
Resigne our office to the HIERARCHY.

<60.1> All historical and genealogical works are deficient
in minute information relative to the family of Charles I.
Even in Anderson's ROYAL GENEALOGIES, 1732, and in the folio
editions of Rapin and Tindal, these details are overlooked.
At page 36 of his DESCENDANTS OF THE STUARTS, 1858, Mr. Townend
observes that two of the children of Charles I. died in infancy,
and of these the Princesse Katherine, commemorated by Lovelace,
was perhaps one. The present verses were originally printed
in MUSARUM OXONIENSIUM CHARISTERIA, Oxon. 1638, 4to, from which
a few better readings have been obtained. With the exceptions
mentioned in the notes, the variations of the earlier text from
that found here are merely literal.

<> P. 140. PRINCESSE KATHERINE, BORNE, &C., IN ONE DAY.
In Ellis's ORIGINAL LETTERS, Second Series, iii. 265, is printed
a scrap from Harl. MS. 6988, in the handwriting of the Princess
Elizabeth, daughter of Charles I., giving a list of the children
of that prince by Henrietta Maria, with the dates of their birth.
There mention is made of a Princess Katherine, born Jan. 29, 1639.
1639 is, I believe, a slip of the pen for 1637; that is to say,
the princess was born on the 29th of January, 1637-8. This
discrepancy between the CHARISTERIA and the memorandum in Harl. MS.
escaped Sir H. Ellis, who was possibly unaware of the existence of
the former. For, unless a mistake is assumed on the part of the
writer of the MS., the existence of TWO Princesses Katherine must
be granted.

<60.2> This reading from CHARISTERIA, 1638, seems preferable to APTLY, as it stands in the LUCASTA.

<60.3> So the CHARISTERIA. The reading in LUCASTA is MOURNE.

<60.4> In LUCASTA the reading is BURIED, AND CHRIST'NED.

<60.5> This word is omitted in the LUCASTA; it is here supplied
from the CHARISTERIA.

<60.6> LUCASTA reads SHOWE'S. SHEW, as printed in CHARISTERIA,
is clearly the true word.

<60.7> i.e. freed. FREE and FREED were sometimes formerly
pronounced like FRY and FRYED: for Lord North, in his
FOREST OF VARIETIES, 1645, has these lines--

"Birds that long have lived free,
Caught and cag'd, but pine and die."

Here evidently FREE is intended to rhyme with DIE.

CLITOPHON AND LUCIPPE TRANSLATED.<61.1>
TO THE LADIES.

Pray, ladies, breath, awhile lay by
Caelestial Sydney's ARCADY;<61.2>
Heere's a story that doth claime
A little respite from his flame:
Then with a quick dissolving looke
Unfold the smoothnes of this book,
To which no art (except your sight)
Can reach a worthy epithite;
'Tis an abstract of all volumes,
A pillaster of all columnes
Fancy e're rear'd to wit, to be
The smallest gods epitome,
And so compactedly expresse
All lovers pleasing wretchednes.

Gallant Pamela's<61.3> majesty
And her sweet sisters modesty
Are fixt in each of you; you are,
Distinct, what these together were;
Divinest, that are really
What Cariclea's<61.4> feign'd to be;
That are ev'ry one the Nine,
And brighter here Astreas shine;
View our Lucippe, and remaine
In her, these beauties o're againe.

Amazement! Noble Clitophon
Ev'n now lookt somewhat colder on
His cooler mistresse, and she too
Smil'd not as she us'd to do.
See! the individuall payre
Are at sad oddes, and parted are;
They quarrell, aemulate, and stand
At strife, who first shal kisse your hand.

A new dispute there lately rose
Betwixt the Greekes and Latines, whose
Temples should be bound with glory,
In best languaging this story;<61.5>

Yee heyres of love, that with one SMILE
A ten-yeeres war can reconcile;
Peacefull Hellens! Vertuous! See:
The jarring languages agree!
And here, all armes layd by, they doe
In English meet to wayt on you.

<61.1> Achillis Tatii Alexandrini DE LUCIPPES ET CLITOPHONTIS
AMORIBUS LIBRI OCTO. The translation of this celebrated work,
to which Lovelace contributed the commendatory verses here
republished, was executed by his friend Anthony Hodges, A.M.,
of New College, Oxford, and was printed at Oxford in 1638, 8vo.
There had been already a translation by W. Burton, purporting
to be done from the Greek, in 1597, 4to. The text of 1649 and
that of 1638 exhibit so many variations, that the reader may be
glad to have the opportunity of comparison:--

"TO THE LADIES.
"Fair ones, breathe: a while lay by
Blessed Sidney's ARCADY:
Here's a story that will make
You not repent HIM to forsake;
And with your dissolving looke
Vntie the contents of this booke;
To which nought (except your sight)
Can give a worthie epithite.
'Tis an abstract of all volumes,
A pillaster of all columnes
Fancie e're rear'd to wit, to be
Little LOVE'S epitome,
And compactedly expresse
All lovers happy wretchednesse.

"Brave PAMELA'S majestie
And her sweet sister's modestie
Are fixt in each of you, you are
Alone, what these together were
Divinest, that are really
What Cariclea's feign'd to be;
That are every one, the Nine;
And on earth Astraeas shine;
Be our LEUCIPPE, and remaine
In HER, all these o're againe.

"Wonder! Noble CLITOPHON
Me thinkes lookes somewhat colder on
His beauteous mistresse, and she too
Smiles not as she us'd to doe.
See! the individuall payre
Are at oddes and parted are;
Quarrel, emulate, and stand
At strife, who first shall kisse your hand.

"A new warre e're while arose
'Twixt the GREEKES and LATINES, whose
Temples should be bound with glory
In best languaging this story:
You, that with one lovely smile
A ten-yeares warre can reconcile;
Peacefull Hellens awfull see
The jarring languages agree,
And here all armes laid by, they doe
Meet in English to court you."
Rich. Lovelace, Ma: Ar: A: Glou: Eq: Aur: Fil: Nat: Max.

See Halliwell's DICTIONARY OF OLD PLAYS, 1860, art. CLYTOPHON.

<61.2> There can be no doubt that Sidney's ARCADIA was formerly
as popular in its way among the readers of both sexes as Sir
Richard Baker's CHRONICLE appears to have been. The former was
especially recommended to those who sought occasional relaxation
from severer studies. See Higford's INSTITUTIONS, 1658, 8vo,
p. 46-7. In his poem of THE SURPRIZE, Cotton describes his
nymph as reading the ARCADIA on the bank of a river--

"The happy OBJECT of her eye
Was SIDNEY'S living ARCADY:
Whose amorous tale had so betrai'd
Desire in this all-lovely maid;
That, whilst her check a blush did warm,
I read LOVES story in her form."
POEMS ON SEVERAL OCCASIONS.
By Charles Cotton, Esq. Lond. 1689, 8vo, p. 392.

<61.3> The Pamela of Sydney's ARCADIA

<61.4> The allusion is to the celebrated story of THEAGENES AND
CHARICLEA, which was popular in this country at an early period.
A drama on the subject was performed before Court in 1574.

<61.5> Lovelace refers, it may be presumed, to an edition
of ACHILLES TATIUS, in which the Greek text was printed
with a Latin translation.

TO MY TRUELY VALIANT, LEARNED FRIEND; WHO IN HIS BOOKE<62.1>
RESOLV'D THE ART GLADIATORY INTO THE MATHEMATICKS.

I.
Hearke, reader! wilt be learn'd ith' warres?
A gen'rall in a gowne?
Strike a league with arts and scarres,
And snatch from each a crowne?

II.
Wouldst be a wonder? Such a one,
As should win with a looke?
A bishop in a garison,
And conquer by the booke?

III.
Take then this mathematick shield,
And henceforth by its rules
Be able to dispute ith' field,
And combate in the schooles.

IV.
Whilst peaceful learning once againe
And the souldier so concord,
As that he fights now with her penne,
And she writes with his sword.

<62.1> "PALLAS ARMATA. The Gentlemen's Armorie. Wherein
the right and genuine use of the Rapier and of the Sword,
as well against the right handed as against the left handed
man 'is displayed.' [By G. A.] London, 1639, 8vo. With several
illustrative woodcuts." The lines, as originally printed
in PALLAS ARMATA, vary from those subsequently admitted into
LUCASTA. They are as follow:--

TO THE READER.
Harke, reader, would'st be learn'd ith' warres,
A CAPTAINE in a gowne?
Strike a league with bookes and starres,
And weave of both the crowne?

Would'st be a wonder? Such a one
As would winne with a looke?
A schollar in a garrison?
And conquer by the booke?

Take then this mathematick shield,
And henceforth by its rules,
Be able to dispute ith' field,
And combate in the schooles.

Whil'st peacefull learning once agen
And th' souldier do concorde,
As that he fights now with her penne,
And she writes with his sword.
Rich. Lovelace, A. Glouces. Oxon.

TO FLETCHER REVIV'D.<63.1>

How have I bin religious? what strange good
Has scap't me, that I never understood?
Have I hel-guarded Haeresie o'rthrowne?
Heald wounded states? made kings and kingdoms one?
That FATE should be so merciful to me,
To let me live t' have said I have read thee.

Faire star, ascend! the joy! the life! the light
Of this tempestuous age, this darke worlds sight!
Oh, from thy crowne of glory dart one flame
May strike a sacred reverence, whilest thy name
(Like holy flamens to their god of day)
We bowing, sing; and whilst we praise, we pray.

Bright spirit! whose aeternal motion
Of wit, like Time, stil in it selfe did run,
Binding all others in it, and did give
Commission, how far this or that shal live;
Like DESTINY of poems who, as she
Signes death to all, her selfe cam never dye.

And now thy purple-robed Traegedy,<63.2>
In her imbroider'd buskins, cals mine eye,
Where the brave Aetius we see betray'd,
T' obey his death, whom thousand lives obey'd;
Whilst that the mighty foole his scepter breakes,
And through his gen'rals wounds his own doome speakes,
Weaving thus richly VALENTINIAN,
The costliest monarch with the cheapest man.

Souldiers may here to their old glories adde,
The LOVER love, and be with reason MAD:<63.3>
Not, as of old, Alcides furious,<63.4>
Who wilder then his bull did teare the house
(Hurling his language with the canvas stone):
Twas thought the monster ror'd the sob'rer tone.

But ah! when thou thy sorrow didst inspire
With passions, blacke as is her darke attire,
Virgins as sufferers have wept to see
So white a soule, so red a crueltie;
That thou hast griev'd, and with unthought redresse
Dri'd their wet eyes who now thy mercy blesse;
Yet, loth to lose thy watry jewell, when
Joy wip't it off, laughter straight sprung't agen.

Now ruddy checked Mirth with rosie wings<63.5>
Fans ev'ry brow with gladnesse, whilst she sings
Delight to all, and the whole theatre
A festivall in heaven doth appeare:
Nothing but pleasure, love; and (like the morne)
Each face a gen'ral smiling doth adorne.

Heare ye, foul speakers, that pronounce the aire
Of stewes and shores,<63.6> I will informe you where
And how to cloath aright your wanton wit,
Without her nasty bawd attending it:<63.7>
View here a loose thought sayd with such a grace,
Minerva might have spoke in Venus face;
So well disguis'd, that 'twas conceiv'd by none
But Cupid had Diana's linnen on;
And all his naked parts so vail'd, th' expresse
The shape with clowding the uncomlinesse;
That if this Reformation, which we
Receiv'd, had not been buried with thee,
The stage (as this worke) might have liv'd and lov'd
Her lines, the austere Skarlet<63.8> had approv'd;
And th' actors wisely been from that offence
As cleare, as they are now from audience.<63.9>

Thus with thy Genius did the scaene expire,<63.10>
Wanting thy active and correcting fire,
That now (to spread a darknesse over all)
Nothing remaines but Poesie to fall:
And though from these thy Embers we receive
Some warmth, so much as may be said, we live;
That we dare praise thee blushlesse, in the head
Of the best piece Hermes to Love<63.11> e're read;
That we rejoyce and glory in thy wit,
And feast each other with remembring it;
That we dare speak thy thought, thy acts recite:
Yet all men henceforth be afraid to write.

<63.1> Fletcher the dramatist fell a victim to the plague of 1625.
See Aubrey's LIVES, vol. 2, part i. p. 352. The verses here
republished were originally prefixed to the first collected edition
of Beaumont and Fletcher's TRAGEDIES AND COMEDIES, 1647, folio.
It is scarcely necessary to remind the reader that Lovelace was
only a child when Fletcher died.

<63.2> VALENTINIAN, A TRAGEDY. First printed in the folio of 1647.

<63.3> THE MAD LOVER. Also first printed in the folio of 1647.

<63.4> An allusion to the HERCULES FURENS of Euripides. Lovelace
had, no doubt, some tincture of Greek scholarship (See Wood's ATH.
OX. ii. 466); but as to the extent of his acquirements in this
direction, it is hard to speak with confidence. Among the books
of Mr. Thomas Jolley, dispersed in 1853, was a copy of Clenardus
INSTITUTIONES GRAECAE LINGUAE, Lugd. Batav. 1626, 8vo., on the
title of which was "Richard Lovelace, 1630, March 5," supposed
to be the autograph of the poet when a schoolboy.

<63.5> In the margin of the copy of 1647, against these lines
is written--"COMEDIES: THE SPANISH CURATE, THE HUMOROUS
LIEUTENANT, THE TAMER TAMED, THE LITTLE FRENCH LAWYER."

<63.6> Sewers.

<63.7> THE CUSTOME OF THE COUNTREY--Marginal note in the copy
of 1647.

<63.8> Query, LAUD.

<63.9> These lines refer to the prohibition published by the
Parliament against the performance of stage-plays and interludes.
The first ordinance appeared in 1642, but that not being found
effectual, a more stringent measure was enacted in 1647, directing,
under the heaviest penalties, the total and immediate abolition
of theatricals.

<63.10> i.e. The scenic drama. The original meaning of SCENE
was a wooden stage for the representation of plays, &c.,
and it is here used therefore in its primitive sense.

<63.11> In the old mythology of Greece, Cupid is the pupil
of Mercury or Hermes; or, in other words, LOVE is instructed
by ELOQUENCE and WIT.

LUCASTA.

Posthume
POEMS
0F

RICHARD LOVELACE ESQ;

THOSE HONOURS COME TOO LATE,
THAT ON OUR ASHES WAITE.
Mart. lib. I. Epig. 26.

LONDON.

Printed by WILLIAM GODBID for

CLEMENT DARBY.

1659.

THE DEDICATION.

TO THE RIGHT H0N0RABLE JOHN LOVELACE, ESQUIRE.<64.1>

SIR,

LUCASTA (fair, but hapless maid!)
Once flourisht underneath the shade
Of your illustrious Mother; now,
An orphan grown, she bows to you!
To you, her vertues' noble heir;
Oh may she find protection there!
Nor let her welcome be the less,
'Cause a rough hand makes her address:
One (to whom foes the Muses are)
Born and bred up in rugged war:
For, conscious how unfit I am,
I only have pronounc'd her name
To waken pity in your brest,
And leave her tears to plead the rest.
Sir,
Your most obedient
Servant and kinsman

DUDLEY POSTHUMUS-LOVELACE.

<64.1> This gentleman was the eldest son of John, second Lord
Lovelace of Hurley, co. Berks, by Anne, daughter of Thomas,
Earl of Cleveland. The first part of LUCASTA was inscribed
by the poet himself to Lady Lovelace, his mother.

POEMS.

TO LVCASTA.

HER RESERVED LOOKS.

LUCASTA, frown, and let me die,
But smile, and see, I live;
The sad indifference of your eye
Both kills and doth reprieve.
You hide our fate within its screen;
We feel our judgment, ere we hear.
So in one picture I have seen
An angel here, the devil there.

LUCASTA LAUGHING.

Heark, how she laughs aloud,
Although the world put on its shrowd:
Wept at by the fantastic crowd,
Who cry: one drop, let fall
From her, might save the universal ball.
She laughs again
At our ridiculous pain;
And at our merry misery
She laughs, until she cry.
Sages, forbear
That ill-contrived tear,
Although your fear
Doth barricado hope from your soft ear.
That which still makes her mirth to flow,
Is our sinister-handed woe,
Which downwards on its head doth go,
And, ere that it is sown, doth grow.
This makes her spleen contract,
And her just pleasure feast:
For the unjustest act
Is still the pleasant'st jest.

NIGHT.

TO LUCASTA.

Night! loathed jaylor of the lock'd up sun,
And tyrant-turnkey on committed day,
Bright eyes lye fettered in thy dungeon,
And Heaven it self doth thy dark wards obey.
Thou dost arise our living hell;
With thee grones, terrors, furies dwell;
Until LUCASTA doth awake,
And with her beams these heavy chaines off shake.

Behold! with opening her almighty lid,
Bright eyes break rowling, and with lustre spread,
And captive day his chariot mounted is;
Night to her proper hell is beat,
And screwed to her ebon seat;
Till th' Earth with play oppressed lies,
And drawes again the curtains of her eyes.

But, bondslave, I know neither day nor night;
Whether she murth'ring sleep, or saving wake;
Now broyl'd ith' zone of her reflected light,
Then frose, my isicles, not sinews shake.
Smile then, new Nature, your soft blast
Doth melt our ice, and fires waste;
Whil'st the scorch'd shiv'ring world new born
Now feels it all the day one rising morn.

LOVE INTHRON'D.

ODE.

I.
Introth, I do my self perswade,
That the wilde boy is grown a man,
And all his childishnesse off laid,
E're since LUCASTA did his fires fan;
H' has left his apish jigs,
And whipping hearts like gigs:
For t' other day I heard him swear,
That beauty should be crown'd in honours chair.

II.
With what a true and heavenly state
He doth his glorious darts dispence,
Now cleans'd from falsehood, blood and hate,
And newly tipt with innocence!
Love Justice is become,
And doth the cruel doome;
Reversed is the old decree;
Behold! he sits inthron'd with majestie.

III.
Inthroned in LUCASTA'S eye,
He doth our faith and hearts survey;
Then measures them by sympathy,
And each to th' others breast convey;
Whilst to his altars now
The frozen vestals bow,
And strickt Diana too doth go
A-hunting with his fear'd, exchanged bow.

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