Ah, Silly Pug, wert thou so Sore Afraid
Inner Temple MS Petyt 538, vol. 10, fol. 3r; Elizabeth I, Collected Works, ed. Leah S. Marcus, Janel Mueller, and Mary Beth Rose (Chicago and London: University of Chicago Press, 2000): 308-09.
2Mourn not, my Wat, nor be thou so dismayed.
3It passeth fickle Fortune's power and skill
4To force my heart to think thee any ill.
5No Fortune base, thou sayest, shall alter thee?
6And may so blind a witch so conquer me?
7No, no, my Pug, though Fortune were not blind,
8Assure thyself she could not rule my mind.
9Fortune, I know, sometimes doth conquer kings,
10And rules and reigns on earth and earthly things,
11But never think Fortune can bear the sway
12If virtue watch, and will her not obey.
13Ne chose I thee by fickle Fortune's rede,
14Ne she shall force me alter with such speed
15But if to try this mistress' jest with thee.
16Pull up thy heart, suppress thy brackish tears,
17Torment thee not, but put away thy fears.
18Dead to all joys and living unto woe,
19Slain quite by her that ne'er gave wise men blow,
20Revive again and live without all dread,
21The less afraid, the better thou shalt speed.
1] Pug: Elizabeth's nickame for Sir Walter Raleigh. See L. G. Black, "A Lost Poem by Queen Elizabeth I," TLS (May 23, 1968): 535. Back to Line
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