Cupid my son, when time shall serve, That thou shalt do this deed, Then warning I to thee will give; But see thou shoot with speed.
Lady dear, to king akin, Forthwith let us proceed To trace abroad the beauty fields, As erst we had decreed: The blowing buds whose savoury scents Our sense will much delight. The sweet smell of musk-white rose, To please the appetite, The chirping birds, whose pleasant tunes Therein shall hear record, That our great joy we shall it find, In field to walk abroad. On lute and cittern there to play A heavenly harmony, Our ears shall hear, heart to content, Our sports to beautify.[246]
Unto your words, most comely lord, Myself submit do I; To trace with you in field so green, I mean not to deny. [_Here trace up and down playing._
And I your waiting maid at hand With diligence will be For to fulfil with heart and hand, When you shall command me.
Come on, my Lord and Knight, abroad Our mirth let us employ: Since he is dead, this heart of mine In corpse I feel it joy. Should brother mine have reigned king, When I had yielded breath? A thousand brothers I rather had, To put them all to death. But, O, behold where do I see A lord and lady fair; For beauty she most worthy is To sit in prince’s chair.
Shoot forth, my son, now is the time That thou must wound his heart.
Content you, mother, I will do my part. [_Shoot there, and go out_ VENUS _and_ CUPID.
Of truth, my lord, in eye of mine All ladies she doth excel: Can none report, what dame she is, And to my grace it tell?
Redoubted prince, pleaseth your grace, To you she is akin; Cousin-german nigh of birth, By mother’s side come in
And that her waiting maiden is, Attending her upon: He is a lord of prince’s court, And will be there anon. They sport themselves in pleasant field, To former used use.
My Lord and Knight, of truth I speak, My heart it cannot choose; But with my lady I must speak, And so express my mind. My lord and ladies, walking there, If you will favour find, Present yourselves unto my grace, And by my side come stand.
We will fulfil, most mighty king, As your grace doth command.
Lady dear, intelligence My grace hath got of late; You issued out of mother’s stock, And kin unto my state: According to rule of birth you are Cousin-german mine; Yet do I wish that farther off This kindred I could find: For Cupid he, that eyeless boy, My heart hath so inflamed With beauty you me to content The like cannot be named; For since I ent’red in this place, And on you fix’d mine eyes, Most burning fits about my heart In ample wise did rise. The heat of them such force doth yield, My corpse they scorch, alas! And burns the same with wasting heat, As Titan doth the grass. And sith this heat is kindled so, And fresh in heart of me, There is no way but of the same The quencher you must be: My meaning is, that beauty yours My heart with love doth wound; To give me love, mind to content My heart hath you out-found: And you are she must be my wife, Else shall I end my days. Consent to this, and be my queen, To wear the crown with praise.