Home

Liberty Fund, Inc. is a private, educational foundation established to encourage the study of the ideal of a society of free and responsible individuals.

Copyright information:

The text is in the public domain.

Fair use statement:

This material is put online to further the educational goals of Liberty Fund, Inc. Unless otherwise stated in the Copyright Information section above, this material may be used freely for educational and academic purposes. It may not be used in any way for profit.

Elegia VII.
Quod ab amica receptus, cum ea coire non potuit conqueritur.

Either she was foul, or her attire was bad,
Or she was not the wench I wished to have had.
Idly I lay with her, as if I loved not,
And like a burden grieved the bed that moved not.
Though both of us performed our true intent,
Yet could I not cast anchor where I meant.
She on my neck her ivory arms did throw,
Her1 arms far whiter than the Scythian snow.
And eagerly she kissed me with her tongue,
And under mine her wanton thigh she flung,
10
Yea, and she soothed me up, and called me “Sir,”2
And used all speech that might provoke and stir.
Yet like as if cold hemlock I had drunk,
It mockèd me, hung down the head and sunk.
Like a dull cipher, or rude block I lay,
Or shade, or body was I, who can say?
What will my age do, age I cannot shun,
Seeing3 in my prime my force is spent and done?
I blush, that being youthful, hot, and lusty,
I prove neither youth nor man, but old and rusty.
20
Pure rose she, like a nun to sacrifice,
Or one that with her tender brother lies.
Yet boarded I the golden Chie4 twice,
And Libas, and the white-cheeked Pitho thrice.
Corinna craved it in a summer's night,
And nine sweet bouts had we5 before daylight.
What, waste my limbs through some Thessalian charms?
May spells and drugs do silly souls such harms?
With virgin wax hath some imbast1 my joints?
And pierced my liver with sharp needle-points?2
30
Charms change corn to grass and make it die:
By charms are running springs and fountains dry.
By charms mast drops from oaks, from vines grapes fall,
And fruit from trees when there's no wind at all.
Why might not then my sinews be enchanted?
And I grow faint as with some spirit haunted?
To this, add shame: shame to perform it quailed me.
And was the second cause why vigour failed me.
My idle thoughts delighted her no more,
Than did the robe or garment which she wore.
40
Yet might her touch make youthful Pylius fire,
And Tithon livelier than his years require.
Even her I had, and she had me in vain,
What might I crave more, if I ask again?
I think the great gods grieved they had bestowed,
This3 benefit: which lewdly4 I foreslowed.5
I wished to be received in, in6 I get me.
To kiss, I kiss;7 to lie with her, she let me.
Why was I blest? why made king to refuse1 it?
Chuff-like had I not gold and could not use it?
50
So in a spring thrives he that told so much,2
And looks upon the fruits he cannot touch.
Hath any rose so from a fresh young maid,
As she might straight have gone to church and prayed?
Well, I believe, she kissed not as she should,
Nor used the sleight and3 cunning which she could.
Huge oaks, hard adamants might she have moved,
And with sweet words caus[ed] deaf rocks to have loved,
Worthy she was to move both gods and men,
But neither was I man nor livèd then.
60
Can deaf ears4 take delight when Phæmius sings?
Or Thamyris in curious painted things?
What sweet thought is there but I had the same?
And one gave place still as another came.
Yet notwithstanding, like one dead it lay,
Drooping more than a rose pulled yesterday.
Now, when he should not jet, he bolts upright,
And craves his task, and seeks to be at fight.
Lie down with shame, and see thou stir no more.
Seeing thou5 would'st deceive me as before.
70
Thou cozenest me: by thee surprised am I,
And bide sore loss6 with endless infamy.
Nay more, the wench did not disdain a whit
To take it in her hand, and play with it.
But when she saw it would by no means stand,
But still drooped down, regarding not her hand,
“Why mock'st thou me,” she cried, “or being ill,
Who bade thee lie down here against thy will?
Either thou art witched with blood of frogs1 new dead,
Or jaded cam'st thou from some other's bed.”
80
With that, her loose gown on, from me she cast her;
In skipping out her naked feet much graced her.
And lest her maid should know of this disgrace,
To cover it, spilt water in the place.

[1]So eds. B, C.—Isham copy and ed. A.—“That were as white as is the Scithian snow.”

[2]“Dominumque vocavit.”

[3]So Isham copy and ed. A.—Eds. B, C “When”

[4]“Flava Chlide.”

[5]So Isham copy and ed. A —Eds. B, C “we had.

[1]The verb “embase” or “imbase” is frequently found in the sense of “abase.” Here the meaning seems to be “weakened, enfeebled. (Ovid's words are “Sagave pœnicea defixit nomina cera.”)

[2]So Isham copy and ed. A (“needle points”).—Eds. B, C “needles' points.”

[3]So Isham copy and ed. A —Eds. B, C “The.”

[4]“Turpiter.”

[5]Neglected.

[6]So eds. B, C —Isham copy “received in, and in I got me.”

[7]So old eds.—Dyce reads “kiss'd.”

[1]So eds. B, C.—Isham copy and ed. A “and refusde it.”

[2]“Sic aret mediis taciti vulgator in undis.”

[3]So eds. B, C.—Isham copy and ed. A “nor.”

[4]Isham copy “yeares,” ed. A “yeres,” eds. B, C “eare.

[5]So eds. B, C.—Isham copy and ed. A “Seeing now thou.”

[6]So eds, B, C.—Isham copy and ed. A “great hurt.”

[1]The original has “Aut te trajectis Aeaea venefica lanis,” &c. (As Dyce remarks, Marlowe read “ranis.”)

Home

The Forum

Econlib

The Library

Other Sites

The Library

Return to Title Page for The Works of Christopher Marlowe, vol. 3 (Poems)

The Online Library of Liberty

A project of Liberty Fund, Inc.

Search this Title:

Also in the Library:

Elegia VII. Quod ab amica receptus, cum ea coire non potuit conqueritur. - Christopher Marlowe, The Works of Christopher Marlowe, vol. 3 (Poems) [1598]

Edition used:

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

About Liberty Fund:

Copyright information:

Fair use statement:

Elegia VII. Quod ab amica receptus, cum ea coire non potuit conqueritur.

Elegia VII.
Quod ab amica receptus, cum ea coire non potuit conqueritur.