Classic Poem

THE A RGUMENT

Edward the Fourth bewitch'd with the Report
Of Mistres Shore , resounded through his Court ;
Steales to the Citie in a strange Disguise,
To view that Beautie, whose trans-piercing Eyes
Had shot so many: which did so content
The amorous King, that instantly he sent
These Lines to her, whose Graces did allure him;
Whose Answere backe, doth of her love assure him.

To thee, the fair'st that ever breath'd this ayre,
From English E DWARD , to thee fairest faire:
Ah, would to God thy Title were no more,
That no remembrance might remaine of Shore ,
To countermaund a Monarchs high desire,
And barre mine Eyes of what they most admire!
O, why should Fortune make the Citie proud,
To give that more, then is the Court allow'd?
Where they (like Wretches) hoord it up to spare,
And doe ingrosse it, as they doe their Ware.
 When Fame first blaz'd thy Beautie here in Court,
Mine Eares repuls'd it, as a light Report:
But when mine Eyes saw what mine Eare had heard,
They thought Report too niggardly had spar'd;
And strucken dumbe with wonder, did but mutter,
Conceiving more then it had words to utter.
Then thinke of what thy Husband is possest,
When I maligne the Wealth wherewith hee's blest;
“When much abundance makes the needie mad,
“Who having all, yet knowes not what is had;
“Into Fooles Bosomes this good fortune creepes,
“And Summes come in, whilst the base Miser sleepes.
If now thy Beautie be of such esteeme,
Which all of so rare excellencie deeme;
What would it be, and prized at what rate,
Were it adorned with a Kingly State?
Which being now but in so meane a Bed,
Is like an un-cut Diamond in Lead,
Ere it be set in some high-prized Ring,
Or garnished with rich enamelling;
We see the beautie of the Stone is spilt,
Wanting the gracious Ornament of Gilt.
 When first attracted by thy heavenly Eyes,
I came to see thee in a strange Disguise,
Passing thy Shop, thy Husband call'd me backe,
Demanding what rare Jewell I did lacke.
I want (thought I) One that I dare not crave,
And One (I feare) thou wilt not let me have:
He calls for Caskets forth, and shewes me store;
But yet I knew he had one Jewell more,
And deadly curst him, that he did deny it,
That I might not for Love or Money buy it.
O, might I come a Diamond to buy,
That had but such a Lustre as thine Eye,
Would not my Treasure serve, my Crowne should goe,
If any Jewell could be prized so!
An Agat, branched with thy blushing straines,
A Saphire, but so azur'd as thy veines;
My Kingly Scepter onely should redeeme it,
At such a price if Judgement could esteeme it.
 How fond and senselesse be those Strangers then,
Who bring in Toyes, to please the English men?
I smile to thinke, how fond th' Italians are,
To judge their artificiall Gardens rare;
When London in thy Cheekes can shew them heere
Roses and Lillies growing all the yeere:
The Portugall , that onely hopes to win,
By bringing Stones from farthest India in;
When happie Shore can bring them forth a Girle,
Whose Lips be Rubies, and her Teeth be Pearle.
How silly is the Polander and Dane ,
To bring us Crystall from the frozen Maine?
When thy cleare Skins transparence doth surpasse
Their Crystall, as the Diamond doth Glasse.
The foolish French , which bring in Trash and Toyes,
To turne our Women, Men, our Girles to Boyes,
When with what Tyre thou do'st thy selfe adorne,
That for a Fashion onely shall be worne;
Which though it were a Garment but of Haire,
More rich then Robe that ever Empresse ware.
 Me thinkes thy Husband takes his marke awry,
To set his Plate to sale, when thou art by;
When they which doe thy Angell-locks behold,
As the base Drosse, doe but respect his Gold,
And wish one Haire, before that massie Heape,
And but one Locke, before the Wealth of Cheape:
And for no cause else hold we Gold so deare,
But that it is so like unto thy Haire.
And sure I thinke, Shore cannot chuse but flout
Such as would find the great Elixar out,
And laugh to see the Alchymists, that choke
Themselves with Fumes, and waste their Wealth in Smoke;
When if thy Hand but touch the grossest Mold,
It is converted to refined Gold:
When theirs is chaff'red at an easie rate,
Well knowne to all, to be adulterate;
And is no more, when it by thine is set,
Then paltry Beugle, or light-prized Jeat.
 Let others weare Perfumes, for thee unmeet,
If there were none, thou couldst make all things sweet;
Thou comfort'st ev'ry Sense with sweet repast,
To heare, to see, to smell, to feele, to taste;
Like a rich Ship, whose very refuse Ware,
Aromatikes, and precious Odors are.
 If thou but please to walke into the Pawne ,
To buy thee Cambricke, Callico, or Lawne,
If thou the whitenesse of the same wouldst prove,
From thy more whiter Hand plucke off thy Glove;
And those which buy, as the Beholders stand,
Will take thy Hand for Lawne, Lawne for thy Hand:
 A thousand Eyes, clos'd up by envious Night,
Doe wish for Day, but to injoy thy sight;
And when they once have blest their Eyes with thee,
Scorne ev'ry Object else, what ere they see;
So like a Goddesse Beautie still controules,
And hath such pow'rfull working in our Soules.
The Merchant, which in Traffique spends his life,
Yet loves at home to have a daintie Wife;
The blunt-spoke Cynicke, poring on his Booke,
Sometimes (aside) at Beautie loves to looke;
The Church-man, by whose Teaching we are led,
Allowes what keepes love in the Marriage Bed;
The bloudie Souldier, spent in dang'rous Broyles,
With Beautie yet content to share his Spoyles;
The busie Lawyer, wrangling in his Pleas,
Findeth, that Beautie gives his labour ease;
The toyling Trades-man, and the sweating Clowne,
Would have his Wench faire, though his Bread be browne;
So much is Beautie pleasing unto all,
That Prince and Pesant equally doth call;
Nor never yet did any Man despise it,
Except too deare, and that he could not prize it.
 Unlearn'd is Learning, Artlesse be all Arts,
If not imploy'd to prayse thy sev'rall Parts:
Poore plodding Schoole-men they are farre too low,
Which by Probations, Rules, and Axiomes goe;
He must be still familiar with the Skies,
Which notes the Revolutions of thine Eyes:
And by that Skill which measures Sea and Land,
See Beauties All , thy Waste, thy Foot, thy Hand;
Where he may find, the more that he doth view,
Such rare Delights, as are both strange and new;
And other Worlds of Beautie, more and more,
Which never were discovered before:
And to thy rare Proportion, to apply
The Lines and Circles in Geometry;
Using alone Arithmetikes strong ground,
Numbring the Vertues that in thee are found:
And when these all have done what they can doo,
For thy Perfections, all too little too.
 When from the East the Dawne hath gotten out,
And gone to seeke thee all the World about,
Within thy Chamber hath she fix'd her Light,
Where, but that place, the World hath all beene Night:
Then is it fit, that ev'ry vulgar Eye
Should see Love banquet in her Majestie?
“We deeme those things our Sight doth most frequent,
“To be but meane, although most excellent;
“For strangers, still the streets are swept and strow'd,
“Few looke on such as dayly come abroad;
“Things much restrain'd, doe make us much desire them,
“And Beauties seldome seene, make us admire them.
Nor is it fit, a Citie-shop should hide
The Worlds Delight, and Natures onely Pride;
But in a Princes sumptuous Gallerie,
Hung all with Tissue, floor'd with Tapestrie;
Where thou shalt sit, and from thy State shalt see
The Tilts and Triumphs that are done for thee.
Then know the diff'rence (if thou list to prove)
Betwixt a Vulgar and a Kingly love;
And when thou find'st, as now thou doubt'st, the troth,
Be thou thy selfe unpartiall Judge of both.
 Where Hearts be knit, what helpes, if not injoy?
Delay breedes doubts, no Cunning to be coy;
Whilst lazie Time his turne by tarriance serves,
Love still growes sickly, and Hope dayly starves:
Meane while, receive that Warrant by these Lines,
Which Princely Rule and Sov'raigntie resignes;
Till when, these Papers, by their Lords command,
By me shall kisse thy sweet and daintie Hand.