Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, FRIAR-BACON: LOVE-SUPPLANTER, by ROBERT GREENE



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

FRIAR-BACON: LOVE-SUPPLANTER, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Edward, prince of wales. / lacy, earl of lincoln
Last Line: Is not of force to bury thoughts of friends....
Subject(s): Betrayal; Courtship; Friendship - False Friends; Hearts; Love; Fair Weather Friends


Edward, Prince of Wales.
Lacy, Earl of Lincoln.
Enter Prince Edward, with his poniard in his hand: Lacy and Margaret.
Edward. Lacy, thou canst not shroud thy traitrous thoughts,
Nor cover, as did Cassius, all his wiles;
For Edward hath an eye that looks as far
As Linceus from the shores of Grecia.
Did not I sit in Oxford by the friar,
And see thee court the maid of Fresingfield,
Sealing thy flattering fancies with a kiss?
Did not proud Bungay draw his portasse forth,
And joining hand in hand had married you,
If Friar Bacon had not strook him dumb,
And mounted him upon a spirit's back,
That we might chat at Oxford with the friar?
Traitor, what answerest, is not all this true?
Lacy. Truth all, my lord, and thus I make reply:
At Harlstone Fair there courting for your grace,
Whenas mine eye survey'd her curious shape,
And drew the beauteous glory of her looks,
To dive into the centre of my heart;
Love taught me that your honour did but jest,
That princes were in fancy but as men:
How that the lovely maid of Fresingfield
Was fitter to be Lacy's wedded wife,
Than concubine unto the Prince of Wales.
Edward. Injurious Lacy, did I love thee more
Than Alexander his Hephestion?
Did I unfold the passion of my love,
And lock them in the closet of thy thoughts?
Wert thou to Edward second to himself,
Sole friend, and partner of his secret loves?
And could a glance of fading beauty break
Th'inchainèd fetters of such private friends?
Base coward, false, and too effeminate,
To be co-rival with a prince in thoughts:
From Oxford have I posted since I dined,
To 'quite a traitor 'fore that Edward sleep.
Margaret. 'Twas I, my lord, not
Lacy stepp'd awry,
For oft he sued and courted for yourself,
And still woo'd for the courtier all in green;
But I whom fancy made but overfond,
Pleaded myself with looks as if I lov'd;
I fed mine eye with gazing on his face,
And still bewitch'd, lov'd Lacy with my looks:
My heart with sighs, mine eyes pleaded with tears,
My face held pity and content at once,
And more I could not cipher out by signs,
But that I lov'd Lord Lacy with my heart.
Then, worthy Edward, measure with thy mind,
If women's favours will not force men fall;
If beauty, and if darts of piercing love
Is not of force to bury thoughts of friends....





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