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Albions England

A Continued Historie of the same Kingdome, from the Originals of the first Inhabitants thereof: With most the chiefe Alterations and Accidents theare hapning, vnto, and in the happie Raigne of our now most gracious Soueraigne, Queene Elizabeth: Not barren in varietie of inuentiue and historicall Intermixtures: First penned and published by William Warner: and now reuised, and newly inlarged by the same Author: Whereunto is also newly added an Epitome of the whole Historie of England
  

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 XXIX. 
 XXX. 
CHAP. XXX.
 XXXI. 
 XXXII. 
 XXXIII. 
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CHAP. XXX.

Venus , the fairest Goddesse, and as amorous as faire,
Belou'd of Mars, and louing Mars, made oftentimes repaire
To Vulcans forge, as to see wrought for Iupiter his Fire
And thunders, Mars his Armors, and the Sun-waines curious tire,
When they, indeed, of merriments in Loue did theare conspire,
And lastly did conclude the Smith a Stale vnto their sport,
Where in did Venus play her part, preuayling in this sort.
Vulcan (quoth she) no God there is, I thinke, but needeth thee:

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For Thunders Ioue, Ceres for Siethes, for Armors Mars I see,
Bacchus for prewning Kniues, and Pan for Sheep-hookes, Phœbus he
For Cart-tiers, Dis for shakling chaines, Neptune for Ankers, and
No God but lackes thee, sauing I, that aske not at thy hand.
My Swans do draw in silken Geeres, my wheeles be shod with downe,
No hardines is in beauties Coach: But thou, (by birth no Clowne,
But Ioue his Son, a God as we) art made a drudge too much,
When, if that Venus might be heard, thou shouldest not be such.
How apt are all, in those same toyles that tend to their behoofe,
To let thee beare till backe doth breake? but common is the proofe,
That cunning is not cunning if it standeth not aloofe.
By this had Vulcan hammered his heate, and bad to stay
The Bellowes, and he, lymping from the Anfeeld, thus did say:
My busines, Venus, is ydoe, now may I tend to play:
What wouldst thou? for I member scarce thy arging by my fay,
Wodst that I leaue the forge, and that I god it with the Gods?
If so thou meanst, thy meaning and my meaning be at ods:
Sweeter my Bellowes blowing and my hammers beating is
To me, then trimmest fidling on the trickest kit ywis,
Aske whatso-else I haue to giue, thous maunde it for a kis.
As if, quoth she, my kisses were so currant vnto all?
No, not at all to Vulcan, if his kindnesse be so small.
I aske thy proper ease, then earne thy proper ease, and aske
More than a kisse, at leastwise do thy selfe from Mars vntaske.
He is my foe Friend thou not him, nor forge him Armes but let
Him luske at home vnhonored, no good by him we get:
What lets but that we may become Superlatiues? Of vs
All stand in need, we need not them: Then gaue shee him a Bus.
And saist me so, quoth Vulcan, and vnto the Trough he hies,
And skowres his coly fists and face, and with his apron dries
Them, badly mended, and vnto the Queene of Dalliance sayes
That Mars should lusk at home for him. Then guilefull Venus playes

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Her part so well, that on her lappe his head the Dotard layes:
And whilst vpon her pressed Thies (no Hauen for such Hulke)
He lolls, and loades her with the weight of his vnwealdy bulke,
And whilst she coyes his sooty Cheekes, or curles his sweaty top,
The Groshead now and then, as hapt, a thred-bare terme lets drop:
Then laughes he like a horse, as who would say, trow, said I well?
But soone his wits were Nonplus, for his wooing could but spell.
This fitted her, for so before twixt Mars and her was ment,
Though not that she so cunningly should Mars of armes preuent,
But him to stawle in store, not els employd, was her intent.
Her Lubber now was snorting ripe, and she meane while was glad,
That for to serue her turne else-wheare so good a Staile she had.
What passe I, thinketh Venus, on his forme or fashions rude?
For, letting forme and fashion passe, one fashion is pursude
In getting Children: at the least, who so the Childe shall git,
It shall suffice that Vulcan is the same shall father it.
Now Mars in heauen, Anchises and Adonis on the earth
May earne for Babes, for Vulcan shall be parent at their birth.
Nay be it that he should espy false carding, what of it.
It shall be thought but ielousie in him, or want of wit:
Him frownes shal threat, or smiles intreat, and few will iudge, I winne,
If it shall come in question, that to Cockhole him were sinne.
Whilst thus she thinketh in her selfe the Cyclops did awake,
And, to be short, more doings passe and they a marriage make.
But wonder did the Deities, when bruted was the match,
That he so foule a thick-skinne should so faire a Lady catch,
They flout him to his face, and held it almes to arme his head.
Well, Venus shortly bagged, and ere long was Cupid bread,
And Vulcan (in like heresie of fathering as moe)
Did rack his Art to arme the Lad with wings, with shafts, with bowe,
Most forceable to loue or hate, as lifts him shootes bestow.
When Vulcans Venus had obtaind her Cupid armed thus,

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Then (for we wish that all besides be sutable to vs)
She, of the Gods and Goddesses before the wanton noted,
Was of the Gods and Goddesses for wantonnesse out-coted,
Not one but wexed amorous, yea euen Diana Doted.
Loues Mother had direction of his arrowes, and she wilde
Him hit the Son-God, for because he, blabbing, had behild
Her daliance with Adonis: so that vexed Phœbus loues
Faire Daphne, whom nor wooes, nor vowes, nor gifts, nor greatnesse moues.
Succesles therefore, and inrag'd, he bastards Cupid, and
(For stoutly on their honesties doe wylie Harlots stand)
Venus did chaife, and of the Gods their strife came to be skand.
Dispersing then her goodly haires, she baer'd so sweete a face,
As from the sternest Godhood might extort suborned grace:
Fast at her side clung naked Loue, a louely boy in deede,
And Vulcan, benched with the Gods, his wife did thus proceede,
(For Phœbus had already tould his tale with sence and heede.)
He sayes, quoth she, for chastitie my hauiour was amis,
Which proued or disproued, then in you to sentence is.
Ah, listen whence it is, ye Gods, that Venus is abused,
Because that Phœbus making loue to Daphne was refused:
If that were wrong, the wrong must then by Phœbe be excused,
Who, rescuing her Votarisse, did so preuent her brother,
But be it that this Boy of mine, not seeing one from other,
Did hit him, for the Sonnes offence should he maligne the mother?
And shall I tell the Childes offence? Why thus, forsooth, it was,
He fitted him to such a Loue as did for Beautie pas:
But if he say it needles was, because it booted not,
I say, that Beautie beggeth if by posting it be got:
He wooing, like himselfe, in post did kisse the post, and shee,
Too good to be his forced Trull, is now become his Tree.
His speeches too, though spoke by one, concernes in credit three.
Mine Husband, and my selfe, and Sonne, Gods, and as good as he.

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Now woe am I, we seuerally are, as it were, arayned
Of Cuckolrie, of Spous-breach, and of Bastardy, though fayned,
Yeat too too forcible I feare to be forgot of some,
For slaunder set on foote, though false, is talkatiuely dome.
Malicious (for thy malice is thy matter all in all
Is it to harlotize, thinkst thou, a Goddesse wrong too small,
But thou must forge it from the Earth, euen from the Sheep-cote? Nay
That colour lacketh colour thou thy selfe I troe wilt say:
Ambitious, fayre, and amorous thou termest me, if so,
Vnlikely to disparge my selfe or bacely stoope so loe,
But being such, and knowing thee in very deede the same,
Might, leauing petite loues, haue found thy selfe my readiest game,
For Phœbus is a Leacher, els are many tongues to blame.
Better no bad of mine (nor neede I feare that fault in thee)
Thy bad doth passe by probate, but a Quere is for mee.
Perhaps (such as it is) my forme may forge to his pretence,
Since Beautie is a common marke, apt therefore to offence.
Well, be it Beautie doth atract, attracting is belou'd,
Beloued courted, courted wonne, and wonne to action mou'd,
Yeat from such causes such effects what Consequence hath prou'd?
For Daphne was, I wot, full faire, and well can Phœbus court,
Yeat Daphne chastly did withstand, and Phœbus mist his sport.
My husband (though by trade a Smith, for birth out-brau'd of none,
And louely vnto Venus, though mislikt of many a one)
May for his plainnes also fit my foes inuectiue drifts:
As who would say, I wedded him to salue vp other shifts.
By Styx I vowe, although I should exceede my selfe for fare,
Yet Venus would be Vulcans, and he knowes I truely sware.
He is indeede no Gallant, yeat a God, and meerly free
From imperfections, such at least as pay not marriage see.
And for his plainnes, to be plaine, the rather choose I him,
For such as he liue best, loue best, and keepe their wiues most trim:

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Wen Roysters either roue at chaunge, be peeuish or precise,
Faire women thererefore matching thus be not, say I, vnwise:
Iudge not by such presumptions then, they add but to his lies.
Thus haue you now a Medley of his malice and my mone,
His vice, my vow, and lastly rests your sentence to be knowne.
If Mercury should plead my cause, he could but set me cleare,
Good causes neede not curious termes, and equall Iudges heare
The Equity, not Eloquence, and so I hope will yee,
And so shall gratefull Venus sayle vnder your gracious Lee.
So, putting the finger in the Eye, the Deities discent,
Some hild with Phœbus, some with her, Which strife did Vulcan stent:
My wife, quoth he, more honest than her Cuser is, I troe,
Shall not ywis be bused by the squandring Pollo so,
She loues me, I durst sweare, and saue my selfe she loues no moe,
And why should you or I beleeue his yea before her noe?
Troth, sayd the Gods, since Vulcan is contented we are pleas'd:
And so the variance was by him thus wittely appeas'd:
Phœbus his Plainte did quash, but so he after-times did watch,
As that Sir Hornsbie had by proofe he was a louing Patch,
When Mars and Venus playing false the wier Net did catch.
Now riddle, Madame, if those tongues that make Synonamies
Of them and vs proue Oracles, what should thereof arise?
That more, quoth she, which you haue sayd than in the letter lies:
But names infect not, nor receiues your Riddle Prophesie,
If ought fore-sayd be ominous, should any feare, tis I.
When so the Queene had sayd, then to this more proceeded he,
Vulcan, Venus, Cupid, Sol, and Daphne turnd to Tree
Were tennis balles to euery tongue of euery Deitee.
Tush Tush, quoth Pan, gay Venus and the gentle youth her sonne
Are blameles blamed: What think you, would Phœbus thē haue don
Had he in loue beene crost as I? And then he thus begun.