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 Front Page arrow Titles (by Subject) arrow Elegia XIV. Puellam consolatur cui præ nimia cura comæ deciderant. - The Works of Christopher Marlowe, vol. 3 (Poems)

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Elegia XIV. Puellam consolatur cui præ nimia cura comæ deciderant. - Christopher Marlowe, The Works of Christopher Marlowe, vol. 3 (Poems) [1598]

Edition used:

The Works of Christopher Marlowe, ed. A.H. Bullen (London: John C. Nimmo, 1885). Vol. 3.

Part of: The Works of Christopher Marlowe, 3 vols.

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Elegia XIV.4
Puellam consolatur cui præ nimia cura comæ deciderant.

  • Leave colouring thy tresses, I did cry;
  • Now hast thou left no hairs at all to dye.
  • But what had been more fair had they been kept?
  • Beyond thy robes thy dangling locks had swept.
  • Fear'dst thou to dress them being fine and thin,
  • Like to the silk the curious1 Seres spin.
  • Or threads which spider's slender foot draws out,
  • Fastening her light web some old beam about?
  • Not black nor golden were they to our view,
  • Yet although [n]either, mixed of either's hue;

    10

  • Such as in hilly Ida's watery plains,
  • The cedar tall, spoiled of his bark, retains.
  • Add2 they were apt to curl a hundred ways,
  • And did to thee no cause of dolour raise.
  • Nor hath the needle, or the comb's teeth reft them,
  • The maid that kembed them ever safely left them.
  • Oft was she dressed before mine eyes, yet never,
  • Snatching the comb to beat the wench, outdrive her.
  • Oft in the morn, her hairs not yet digested,
  • Half-sleeping on a purple bed she rested;

    20

  • Yet seemly like a Thracian Bacchanal,
  • That tired doth rashly3 on the green grass fall.
  • When they were slender and like downy moss,
  • Thy4 troubled hairs, alas, endured great loss.
  • How patiently hot irons they did take,
  • In crookèd trannels5 cnspy curls to make.
  • I cried, “'Tis sin, 'tis sin, these hairs to burn,
  • They well become thee, then to spare them turn.
  • Far off be force, no fire to them may reach,
  • Thy very hairs will the hot bodkin teach.”

    30

  • Lost are the goodly locks, which from their crown,
  • Phœbus and Bacchus wished were hanging down.
  • Such were they as Diana1 painted stands,
  • All naked holding in her wave-moist hands.
  • Why dost thy ill-kembed tresses' loss lament?
  • Why in thy glass dost look, being discontent?
  • Be not to see with wonted eyes inclined;
  • To please thyself, thyself put out of mind.
  • No charmèd herbs of any harlot scathed thee,
  • No faithless witch in Thessal waters bathed thee.

    40

  • No sickness harmed thee (far be that away!),
  • No envious tongue wrought thy thick locks' decay.
  • By thine own hand and fault thy hurt doth grow,
  • Thou mad'st thy head with compound poison flow.
  • Now Germany shall captive hair-tires send thee,
  • And vanquished people curious dressings lend thee.
  • Which some admiring, O thou oft wilt blush!
  • And say, “He likes me for my borrowed bush,
  • Praising for me some unknown Guelder2 dame;
  • But I remember when it was my fame.”

    50

  • Alas, she almost weeps, and her white cheeks,
  • Dyed red with shame, to hide from shame she seeks.
  • She holds, and views her old locks in her lap;
  • Ay me! rare gifts unworthy such a hap!
  • Cheer up thyself, thy loss thou may'st repair,
  • And be hereafter seen with native hair.

[4]Not in Isham copy or ed. A.

[1]The original has “colorath Seres.”

[2]So ed. B.—Ed. C “And.”

[3]“Temere.”

[4]Old eds. “They.”

[5]Cunningham and the editor of 1826 may be right in reading “trammels” (i.e., ringlets). “Irannel” was the name for a bodkin The origmal has “Ut fieret torto flexilis orbe sinus.”

[1]“Nuda Dione.”

[2]“Nescio quam pro me laudat nunc iste Sygambram.”