youre faire selves a faire ensample frame Of this faire Virgin, this Belphœbe fayre;
To whom, in perfect love and spotlesse fame Of Chastitie, none living may compayre:
Ne poysnous Envy iustly can empayre The prayse of her fresh-flowring Maydenhead; Forthy she standeth on the highest stayre Of th' honorable stage of womanhead, That Ladies all may follow her ensample dead.
In so great prayse of stedfast Chastity
Nathlesse she was so courteous and kynde, Tempred with Grace and goodly Modesty, That seemed those two vertues strove to fynd The higher place in her heroick mynd: So striving each did other more augment, And both encreast the prayse of womankynde, And both encreast her beautie excellent: So all did make in her a perfect complement.
The Birth of fayre Belphœbe and
Of Amorett is told:
The Gardins of Adonis fraught
With pleasures manifold.
WELL may I weene, faire Ladies, all this while
Ye wonder how this noble Damozell
So great perfections did in her compile,
Sith that in salvage forests she did dwell,
So farre from Court and royall Citadell,
The great schoolmaistresse of all Courtesy:
Seemeth that such wilde woodes should far expell
All civile usage and gentility,
And gentle sprite deforme with rude rusticity.
But to this faire Belphœbe in her Berth
The hevens so favorable were and free,
Looking with myld aspéct upon the earth
In th' horoscope of her nativitee,
That all the gifts of grace and chastitee
On her they poured forth of plenteous horne:
Iove laught on Venus from his soverayne see,
And Phoebus with faire beames did her adorne,
And all the Graces rockt her cradle being borne.
Her Berth was of the wombe of morning dew,
And her conception of the ioyous prime;
And all her whole creation did her shew
Pure and unspotted from all loathly crime
That is ingenerate in fleshly slime.
So was this Virgin borne, so was she bred;
So was she trayned up from time to time
In all chaste vertue and true bountihed,
Till to her dew perfection she were ripened.
Her mother was the faire Chrysogonee,
The daughter of Amphisa, who by race
A Faerie was, yborne of high degree:
She bore Belphoebe; she bore in like cace
Fayre Amoretta in the second place:
These two were twinnes, and twixt them two did share The heritage of all celestiall
That all the rest it seemd they robbed bare
Of bounty, and of beautie, and all vertues rare.
It were a goodly storie to declare
By what straunge accident faire Chrysogone
Conceiv'd these infants, and how them she bare
In this wilde forrest wandring all alone,
After she had nine moneths fulfild and gone:
For not as other wemens commune brood
They were enwombed in the sacred throne
Of her chaste bodie; nor with commune food,
As other wemens babes, they sucked vitall blood:
But wondrously they were begot and bred
Through influence of th' hevens fruitfull ray,
As it in antique bookes is mentioned.
It was upon a sommers shinie day,
When Titan faire his beamës did display,
In a fresh fountaine, far from all mens vew,
She bath'd her brest the boyling heat t'allay;
She bath'd with roses red and violets blew,
And all the sweetest flowers that in the forrest grew:
Till faint through yrkesome wearines adowne
Upon the grassy ground herselfe she layd
To sleepe, the whiles a gentle slombring swowne
Upon her fell all naked bare displayd:
The sunbeames bright upon her body playd,
Being through former bathing mollifide,
And pierst into her wombe; where they embayd
With so sweet sence and secret powre unspide,
That in her pregnant flesh they shortly fructifide.
Miraculous may seeme to him that reades
So straunge ensample of conception;
But reason teacheth that the fruitfull seades
Of all things living, through impression
Of the sunbeames in moyst complexion,
Doe life conceive and quickned are by kynd:
So, after Nilus inundation,
Infinite shapes of creatures men doe fynd
Informed in the mud on which the sunne hath shynd.
Great father he of generation
Is rightly cald, th' authour of life and light;
And his faire sister for creation
Ministreth matter fit, which, tempred right
With heate and humour, breedes the living wight.
So sprong these twinnes in womb of Chrysogone;
Yet wist she nought thereof, but sore affright
Wondred to see her belly so upblone,
Which still increast till she her terme had full outgone.
Whereof conceiving shame and foule disgrace,
Albe her guiltlesse conscience her cleard,
She fled into the wildernesse a space,
Till that unweeldy burden she had reard,
And shund dishonor which as death she feard:
Where, wearie of long traveill, downe to rest
Herselfe she set, and comfortably cheard;
There a sad cloud of sleepe her overkest,
And seized every sence with sorrow sore opprest.
It fortuned, faire Venus having lost
Her little sonne, the winged god of love,
Who for some light displeasure, which him crost,
Was from her fled as flit as ayery dove,
And left her blisfull bowre of ioy above;
(So from her often he had fled away,
When she for ought him sharpely did reprove,
And wandred in the world in straunge aray,
Disguiz'd in thousand shapes, that none might him bewray ;)
|