Classic Poem

[SCENE XVIII.]

Enter N ERONIS like a shepherd's boy .

Nero. The painful paths, the weary ways, the travails and ill fare,
That simple feat to princess seem in practice very rare,
As I, poor dame, whose pensive heart no pleasure can delight
Since that my state so cruelly fell Fortune holds in spite
Ah poor Neronis, in thy hand is this a seemly show,
Who shouldst in court thy lute supply where pleasures erst did flow?
Is this an instrument for thee, to guide a shepherd's flock,
That art a princess by thy birth and born of noble stock?
May mind from mourning more refrain, to think on former state?
May heart from sighing eke abstain, to see this simple rate?
May eyes from down-distilling tears, when thus alone I am,
Resistance make, but must they not through ceaseless sorrows frame
A river of bedewèd drops for to distain my face?
Ah heavens, when you're revenged enough, then look upon my case!
For till I hear some news, alas, upon my loving knight,
I dare not leave this loathsome life for fear of greater spite:
And now, as did my master will, a sheep that is astray
I must go seek her out again by wild and weary way.—
Ah woful sight! what is, alas, with these mine eyes beheld?
That to my loving knight belong'd I view the golden shield.
Ah heavens, this hearse doth signify my knight [alas] is slain!
Ah death, no longer do delay, but rid the lives of twain!
Heart, hand, and every sense, prepare, unto the hearse draw nigh,
And thereupon submit yourselves; disdain not for to die
With him that was your mistress' joy, her life and death like case;
And well I know in seeking me he did his end embrace;
That cruel wretch, that Norway King, this cursèd deed hath done:
But now to cut that lingering thread that Lachis long hath spun,
The sword of this my loving knight, behold, I here do take,
Of this my woful corps, alas, a final end to make!
Yet, ere I strike that deadly stroke that shall my life deprave,
Ye Muses, aid me to the gods for mercy first to crave!
Well, now, you heavens, receive my ghost! my corps I leave behind,
To be enclosed with his in earth by those that shall it find.

Descend Providence .

Prov. Stay, stay thy stroke, thou woful dame: what wilt thou thus despair?
Behold, to let this wilful fact, I, Providence prepare
To thee from seat of mighty Jove. Look hereupon again;
Read that, if case thou canst it read, and see if he be slain
Whom thou dost love.
Nero. [ after reading the verses on the hearse ]. Ah heavens above,
All laud and praise and honour due to you I here do render,
That would vouchsafe your handmaid here in woful state to tender!
But by these same verses do I find my faithful knight doth live,
Whose hand unto my deadly foe the mortal stroke did give,
Whose cursèd carcass, lo, it is which here no ground doth lie:
Ah, honour due for this I yield to mighty Jove on high!
Prov. Well, let desperation die in thee: I may not here remain,
But be assurèd that thou shalt erelong thy knight attain.
Nero. And for their providence divine the gods above I'll praise,
And show their works so wonderful unto their laud always.
Well, sith that the gods by providence have' signèd untome
Such comfort sweet in my distress, my knight again to see,
Farewell all feeding shepherd's flocks, unseemly for my state;
To seek my love I will set forth in hope of friendly fate:
But first to shepherd's house I will, my page's tire to take,
And afterwards depart from thence my journey for to make.