The Metamorphosis of Pigmalions Image

The Metamorphoſis of Pigmalions Image. And Certaine Satyres. At London, Printed for Edmond Matts, & are to be ſold at the ſigne of the Hand and Plough in Fleetſtreete. 1598.

TO THE WORLDS MIGHTIE MONARCH, GOOD OPINION:

Sole Regent of Affection, perpetuall Ruler of Iudgement, moſt famous Iuſtice of Cenſures, onely giuer of Honor, great procurer of Aduancement, the Worlds chiefe Ballance, the All of all, and All in all, by whom all things are y^t that they are. I humbly offer thys my Poem.

Thou ſoule of Pleaſure, Honors only ſubſtance,

Great Arbitrator, Vmpire of the Earth,

Whom fleſhly Epicures call Vertues eſſence,

Thou moouing Orator, whoſe powrefull breath

Swaies all mens iudgements. Great OPINION,

Vouchſafe to guild my imperfection.

If thou but daine to grace my bluſhing ſtile,

And crowne my Muſe with good opinion:

If thou vouchſafe with gracious eye to ſmile

Vpon my young new-borne Inuention,

Ile ſing an Hymne in honor of thy name,

And add ſome Trophie to enlarge thy fame.

But if thou wilt not with thy Deitie

Shade, and inmaſke the errors of my pen,

Protect an Orphane Poets infancie,

I will diſcloſe, that all the world ſhall ken

How partiall thou art in Honors giuing:

Crowning the ſhade, the ſubſtance praiſe depriving.

W. K.

THE ARGVMENT

of the Poem.

Pigmalion whoſe chaſt mind all the beauties in Cyprus could not enſnare, yet at the length hauing carued in Iuorie an excellent pro-po^rtion of a beauteous woman, was ſo deeplie enamored on his owne workmanſhip, that he would oftentimes lay the Image in bedde with him, and fondlie vſe ſuch petitions and dalliance, as if it had been a breathing creature. But in the end, finding his fond dotage, and yet perſeuering in his ardent affection, made his deuout prayers to Venus, that ſhee would vouchſafe to enſpire life into his Loue, and then ioyne them both together in marriage. Wherevpon Venus graciouſly condiſcending to his earneſt ſute, the Mayde, (by the power of her Deitie) was metamorphoſed into a liuing Woman. And after, Pigmalion (beeing in Cyprus,) begat a ſonne of her, which was called Paphus, wherupon, that Iland Cyprus, in honor of Venus, was after, and is now, called by the inhabitants, Paphos.

To his Miſtres.

My wanton Muſe laſciuiouſly doth ſing

Of ſportiue loue, of louely dallying.

O beauteous Angell, daine thou to infuſe

A ſprightly wit, into my dulled Muſe.

I inuocate none other Saint but thee,

To grace the first bloomes of my Poeſie.

Thy fauours like Promethean ſacred fire,

In dead, and dull conceit can life inſpire.

Or like that rare and rich Elixar ſtone,

Can turne to gold, leaden inuention:

Be gracious then, and daine to ſhow in mee,

The mighty power of thy Deitie.

And as thou read’st, (Faire) take compaſſion,

Force me not enuie my Pigmalion.

Then when thy kindnes grants me ſuch ſweet bliſſe,

I’le gladly write thy metamorphoſis.

PIGMALION.

1.

Pigmalion, whoſe hie loue-hating minde

Diſdain’d to yeeld ſeruile affection,

Or amorous ſute to any woman-kinde,

Knowing their wants, and mens perfection.

Yet Loue at length forc’d him to know his fate,

And loue the ſhade, whoſe ſubſtance he did hate.

2.

For hauing wrought in pureſt Iuorie,

So faire an Image of a Womans feature,

That neuer yet proudeſt mortalitie

Could ſhow ſo rare and beautious a creature.

(Vnleſſe my Miſtres all-excelling face,

Which giues to beautie, beauties onely grace.)

3.

Hee was amazed at the wondrous rareneſſe

Of his owne workmanſhips perfection.

He thought that Nature nere produc’d ſuch fairenes

In which all beauties haue their mantion.

And thus admiring, was enamored

On that fayre Image himſelfe portraied.

4.

And naked as it ſtood before his eyes,

Imperious Loue declares his Deitie.

O what alluring beauties he deſcries

In each part of his faire imagery!

Her nakednes, each beauteous ſhape containes.

All beautie in her nakednes remaines.

5.

He thought he ſaw the blood run through the vaine

And leape, and ſwell with all alluring meanes:

Then feares he is deceiu’d, and then againe,

He thinks he ſee’th the brightnes of the beames

Which ſhoote from out the fairenes of her eye:

At which he ſtands as in an extaſie.

6.

Her Amber-coloured, her ſhining haire,

Makes him proteſt, the Sunne hath ſpread her head

With golden beames, to make her farre more faire.

But whē her cheeks his amorous thoughts haue fed,

Then he exclaimes, ſuch redde and ſo pure white,

Did neuer bleſſe the eye of mortall ſight.

7.

Then view’s her lips, no lips did ſeeme ſo faire

In his conceit, through which he thinks doth flie

So ſweet a breath, that doth perfume the ayre.

Then next her dimpled chin he doth diſcry,

And views, and wonders, and yet view’s her ſtill.

Loues eyes in viewing neuer haue their fill.

8.

Her breaſts, like poliſht Iuory appeare,

Whoſe modeſt mount, doe bleſſe admiring eye,

And makes him wiſh for ſuch a Pillowbeare.

Thus fond Pigmalion ſtriueth to diſcry

Each beauteous part, not letting ouer-ſlip

One parcell of his curious workmanſhip.

9.

Vntill his eye diſcended ſo farre downe

That it deſcried Loues pauillion:

Where Cupid doth enioy his onely crowne,

And Venus hath her chiefeſt mantion:

There would he winke, & winking looke againe,

Both eies & thoughts would gladly there remaine.

10.

Who euer ſaw the ſubtile Citty-dame

In ſacred church, whē her pure thoughts ſhold pray,

Peire through her fingers, ſo to hide her ſhame,

When that her eye her mind would faine bewray.

So would he view, and winke, and view againe,

A chaſter thought could not his eyes retaine.

11.

He wondred that ſhe bluſht not when his eye

Saluted thoſe ſame parts of ſecrecie:

Conceiting not it was imagerie

That kindly yeelded that large libertie.

O that my Miſtres were an Image too,

That I might blameles her perfections view.

12.

But when the faire proportion of her thigh

Began appeare. O Ouid would he cry,

Did ere Corinna ſhow ſuch Iuorie

When ſhe appear’d in Venus liuorie?

And thus enamour’d, dotes on his owne Art

Which he did work, to work his pleaſing ſmart.

13.

And fondly doting, oft he kiſt her lip.

Oft would he dally with her Iuory breaſts.

No wanton loue-trick would he ouer-ſlip,

But ſtill obſeru’d all amorous beheaſts.

Whereby he thought he might procure the loue

Of his dull Image, which no plaints coulde moue.

14.

Looke how the peeuiſh Papiſts crouch, and kneele

To ſome dum Idoll with their offering,

As if a ſenceles carued ſtone could feele

The ardor of his bootles chattering,

So fond he was, and earneſt in his ſute

To his remorſles Image, dum and mute.

15.

He oft doth wiſh his ſoule might part in ſunder

So that one halfe in her had reſidence:

Oft he exclaimes, ô beauties onely wonder,

Sweet modell of delight, faire excellence,

Be gracious vnto him that formed thee,

Compaſſionate his true-loues ardencie.

16.

She with her ſilence, ſeemes to graunt his ſute.

Then he all iocund like a wanton louer,

With amorous embracements doth ſalute

Her ſlender waſt, preſuming to diſcouer

The vale of Loue, where Cupid doth delight

To ſport, and dally all the ſable night.

17.

His eyes, her eyes, kindly encountered,

His breaſt, her breaſt, oft ioyned cloſe vnto,

His armes embracements oft ſhe ſuffered,

Hands, armes, eyes, tongue, lips, and all parts did woe.

His thigh, with hers, his knee playd with her knee,

A happy conſort when all parts agree.

18.

But when he ſaw poore ſoule he was deceaued,

(Yet ſcarce he could beleeue his ſence had failed)

Yet when he found all hope from him bereaued,

And ſaw how fondly all his thoughts had erred,

Then did he like to poore Ixion ſeeme,

That clipt a cloud in ſteede of heauens Queene.

19.

I oft haue ſmil’d to ſee the foolery

Of ſome ſweet Youths, who ſeriouſly proteſt

That Loue reſpects not actuall Luxury,

But onely ioy’s to dally, ſport, and ieſt:

Loue is a child, contented with a toy,

A buſk-point, or ſome fauour ſtill’s the boy.

20.

Marke my Pigmalion, whoſe affections ardor

May be a mirror to poſteritie.

Yet viewing, touching, kiſſing, (common fauour,)

Could neuer ſatiat his loues a^rdencie:

And therefore Ladies, thinke that they nere loue you,

Who doe not vnto more then kiſſing moue you.

21.

For my Pigmalion kiſt, viewd, and imbraced,

And yet exclaimes, why were theſe women made

O ſacred Gods, and with ſuch beauties graced?

Haue they not power as well to coole, and ſhade,

As for to heate mens harts? or is there none

Or are they all like mine? relentleſſe ſtone.

22.

With that he takes her in his louing armes,

And downe within a Downe-bed ſoftly layd her.

Then on his knees he all his ſences charmes,

To inuocate ſweet Venus for to raiſe her

To wiſhed life, and to infuſe ſome breath,

To that which dead, yet gaue a life to death.

23

Thou ſacred Queene of ſportiue dallying,

(Thus he begins,) Loues onely Empereſſe,

Whoſe kingdome reſts in wanton reuelling,

Let me beſeech thee ſhow thy powerfulneſſe

In changing ſtone to fleſh, make her relent,

And kindly yeeld to thy ſweet blandiſhment.

24

O gracious Gods, take compaſſion.

Inſtill into her ſome celeſtiall fire,

That ſhe may equalize affection,

And haue a mutuall loue, and loues deſire.

Thou know’ſt the force of loue, then pitty me,

Compaſſionate my true loues ardencie.

25.

Thus hauing ſaid, he riſeth from the floore,

As if his ſoule diuined him good fortune,

Hoping his prayers to pitty moou’d ſome power.

For all his thoughts did all good luck importune.

And therefore ſtraight he ſtrips him naked quite,

That in the bedde he might haue more delight.

26

Then thus, Sweet ſheetes he ſayes, which nowe doe couer,

The Idol of my ſoule, the faireſt one

That euer lou’d, or had an amorous louer.

Earths onely modell of perfection,

Sweet happy ſheetes, daine for to take me in,

That I my hopes and longing thoughts may win.

27

With that his nimble limbs doe kiſſe the ſheetes,

And now he bowes him for to lay him downe,

And now each part, with her faire parts doe meet,

Now doth he hope for to enioy loues crowne:

Now doe they dally, kiſſe, embrace together,

Like Leda’s Twins at ſight of faireſt weather.

28

Yet all’s conceit. But ſhadow of that bliſſe

Which now my Muſe ſtriues ſweetly to diſplay

In this my wondrous metamorphoſis.

Daine to beleeue me, now I ſadly ſay.

The ſtonie ſubſtance of his Image feature,

Was ſtraight transform’d into a liuing creature.

29

For when his hands her faire form’d limbs had felt,

And that his armes her naked waſt imbraced,

Each part like Waxe before the ſunne did melt,

And now, oh now, he finds how he is graced

By his owne worke. Tut, women will relent

When as they finde ſuch mouing blandiſhment.

30.

Doe but conceiue a Mothers paſſing gladnes,

(After that death her onely ſonne hath ſeazed

And ouerwhelm’d her ſoule with endleſſe ſadnes)

When that ſhe ſees him gin for to be raiſed

From out his deadly ſwoune to life againe:

Such ioy Pigmalion feeles in euery vaine.

31.

And yet he feares he doth but dreaming find

So rich content, and ſuch celeſtiall bliſſe.

Yet when he proues & finds her wondrous kind,

Yeelding ſoft touch for touch, ſweet kiſſe, for kiſſe,

He’s well aſſur’d no faire imagery

Could yeeld ſuch pleaſing, loues felicity.

32.

O wonder not to heare me thus relate,

And ſay to fleſh tranſformed was a ſtone.

Had I my Loue in ſuch a wiſhed ſtate

As was afforded to Pigmalion,

Though flinty hard, of her you ſoone ſhould ſee

As ſtrange a transformation wrought by mee.

33.

And now me thinks ſome wanton itching eare

With luſtfull thoughts, and ill attention,

Liſt’s to my Muſe, expecting for to heare

The amorous diſcription of that action

Which Venus ſeekes, and euer doth require,

When fitnes graunts a place to pleaſe deſire.

34.

Let him conceit but what himſelfe would doe

When that he had obtayned ſuch a fauour,

Of her to whom his thoughts were bound vnto,

If ſhe, in recompence of his loues labour,

Would daine to let one payre of ſheets containe

The willing bodies of thoſe louing twaine.

35.

Could he, oh could he, when that each to eyther

Did yeeld kind kiſſing and more kind embracing,

Could he when that they felt; and clip’t together

And might enioy the life of dallying,

Could he abſtaine midſt ſuch a wanton ſporting

From doing that, which is not fit reporting?

36.

What would he doe when that her ſofteſt ſkin

Saluted his with a delightfull kiſſe?

When all things fit for loues ſweet pleaſuring

Inuited him to reape a Louers bliſſe?

What he would doe, the ſelfe ſame action

Was not neglected by Pigmalion.

37.

For when he found that life had tooke his ſeate

Within the breaſt of his kind beauteous loue,

When that he found that warmth, and wiſhed heate

Which might a Saint and coldeſt ſpirit moue,

Thē arms, eyes, hands, tong, lips, & wanton thigh,

Were willing agents in Loues luxurie.

38.

Who knowes not what enſues? O pardon me

Yee gaping eares that ſwallow vp my lines

Expect no more. Peace idle Poeſie,

Be not obſceane though wanton in thy rimes.

And chaſter thoughts, pardon if I doe trip,

Or if ſome looſe lines from my pen doe ſlip,

39.

Let this ſuffice, that that ſame happy night

So gracious were the Gods of marriage

Mid’ſt all there pleaſing and long wiſh’d delight

Paphus was got: of whom in after age

Cyrus was Paphos call’d, and euermore

Thoſe Ilandars do Venus name adore.

FINIS.

SATYRES

The Authour in prayſe of his

precedent Poem.

Now Rufus, by old Glebrons fearefull mace

Hath not my Muſe deſeru’d a worthy place?

Come come Luxurio, crowne my head with Bayes,

Which like a Paphian, wantonly diſplayes

The Salaminian titillations,

Which tickle vp our leud Priapians.

Is not my pen compleate? are not my lines

Right in the ſwaggering humor of theſe times?

O ſing Peana to my learned Muſe.

Io bis dicite. Wilt thou refuſe?

Doe not I put my Miſtres in before?

And pitiouſly her gracious ayde implore?

Doe not I flatter, call her wondrous faire?

Vertuous, diuine moſt debonaire?

Hath not my Goddeſſe in the vaunt-gard place,

The leading of my lines theyr plumes to grace?

And then enſues my ſtanzaes, like odd bands

Of voluntaries, and mercenarians:

Which like Soldados of our warlike age,

March rich bedight in warlike equipage:

Glittering in dawbed lac’d accouſtrements,

And pleaſing ſutes of loues habiliments.

Yet puffie as Dutch hoſe they are within,

Faint, and white liuer’d, as our gallants bin:

Patch’d like a beggars cloake, and run as ſweet

As doth a tumbrell in the paued ſtreet.

And in the end, (the end of loue I wot)

Pigmalion hath a iolly boy begot.

So Labeo did complaine his loue was ſtone,

Obdurate, flinty, ſo relentleſſe none:

Yet Lynceus knowes, that in the end of this,

He wrought as ſtrange a metamorphoſis.

Ends not my Poem then ſurpaſſing ill?

Come, come, Auguſtus, crowne my laureat quill.

Now by the whyps of Epigramatists,

Ile not be laſht for my diſſembling ſhifts.

And therefore I vſe Popelings diſcipline,

Lay ope my faults to Mastigophoros eyne:

Cenſure my ſelfe, fore others me deride

And ſcoffe at mee, as if I had deni’d

Or thought my Poem good, when that I ſee

My lines are froth, my ſtanzaes ſapleſſe be.

Thus hauing rail’d againſt my ſelfe a while,

Ile ſnarle at thoſe, which doe the world beguile

With maſked ſhowes. Ye changing Proteans liſt,

And tremble at a barking Satyriſt.