No More Learning

_S_: with them. _Chambers_]

[36 then] when _Chambers_]

[39 sneap'd _Ed_: snep'd _S_: swept _LePD'A_: snipped
_Chambers_]




_A Paradoxe of a Painted Face. _

Not kisse? By Jove I must, and make impression
As longe as Cupid dares to holde his Session
Vpon my flesh and blood: our kisses shall
Outminute Time and without number fall.
Doe I not know these Balls of blushinge Red 5
That on thy Cheekes thus amorouslie are spred?
Thy snowy necke, those veynes upon thy Browe
Which with their azure crincklinge sweetly bowe
Are artificiall? Borrowed? and no more thine owne
Then Chaines which on St. George's Day are showne, 10
Are proper to the wearers? Yet for this
I idole thee, and beg a luscious kisse.
The fucus, and Ceruse, which on thy face
Thy Cunninge hand layes on to add new Grace,
Detaine me with such pleasing fraude, that I 15
Finde in thy art, what can in nature Lie.
Much like a painter that upon some Wall
On which the radiant Sun-beames use to fall
Paints with such art a Gilded butterflye
That silly maides with slowe-moved fingers trye 20
To Catch it, and then blush at theire mistake,
Yet of this painted flye most reckonynge make:
Such is our state; since what we looke upon
Is nought but Coullor and Proportion.
Take me a face, as full of fraud and Lies 25
As Gypsies in your cunninge Lotteries,
That is more false, and more Sophisticate
Than are Saints reliques, or a man of state.
Yet such being Glazed by the sleight of arte,
Gaines admiration, winninge many a Harte. 30
Put case there be a difference in the molde,
Yet may thy Venus be more Chaste, and holde
A dearer treasure: oftentimes we see
Rich Candian wines in woodden Boules to bee.
The odoriferous Civet doth not lie 35
Within the muskat's nose, or eare, or eye,
But in a baser place; for prudent nature
In drawinge us of various formes and stature
Gives from the curious shop of hir rich treasure
To faire parts comeliness, to baser, pleasure. 40
The fairest flowers, which in the Springe doe growe
Are not so much for use, as for the showe,
As Lillies, Hyacinths, and the georgious birthe
Of all pide flowers that diaper the earthe,
Please more with their discoloured purple traine 45
Then wholesome pothearbs which for use remaine.
Shall I a Gaudy Speckled Serpent kiss
For that the colours which he weares are his?
A perfumed Cordevant who will not wear
Because the sente is borrowed elsewhere? 50
The roabes and vestiments, which grace us all
Are not our owne, but adventitiall.
Time rifles Natures beauty, but slye Arte
Repaires by cunninge this decayinge parte.
Fills here a wrinckle, and there purles a veyne, 55
And with a nimble hand runs o're againe
The breaches dented in by th'arme of time,
And makes Deformity to be no crime.
As when great men be grip't by sicknes hand,
Industrious Physicke pregnantly doth stand 60
To patch up foule diseases, and doth strive
To keepe theire totteringe Carcasses alive.
Beautie is a candlelight which every puffe
Blowes out, and leaves nought but a stinking snuffe
To fill our nostrills with; this boldelie thinke, 65
The cleerest Candle makes the greatest stincke,
As your pure fode and cleerest nutryment
Gets the most hott, and nose stronge excrement.
Why hange we then on thinges so apt to varie,
So fleetinge, brittle, and so temporarie? 70
That agues, Coughes, the toothache, or Catarr
(Slight hansells of diseases) spoile and marr.
But when olde age theire beauties hath in Chace,
And plowes up furrowes in theire once-smoothe face,
Then they become forsaken, and doe showe 75
Like stately abbeyes ruin'd longe agoe.
Nature but gives the modell, and first draught
Of faire perfection, which by art is taught
To speake itselfe, a compleat form and birthe,
Soe stands a Copie to these shapes on earthe. 80
Jove grante me then a reparable face
Which, whiles that Colours are, can want no grace.
Pigmalions painted statue I coulde love,
Soe it were warme and softe, and coulde but move.


[A Paradoxe of a Painted Face.