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Diana of George of Montemayor

Translated out of Spanish into English by Bartholomew Yong
  

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The third Booke of the second Part of Diana of George of Montemayor.
  
  
  
  
  
  
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The third Booke of the second Part of Diana of George of Montemayor.


219

[First shall these christall streames their courses backward mooue]

First shall these christall streames their courses backward mooue,
Before I will forget my sweete and deerest Loue.

228

[If to my musickes skill]

If to my musickes skill
Apollo might his praises all resigne,
And if (vnto my will)
My speech were so diuine,
That Mercurie for greefe thereat might pine.
And if that eloquence
So famous of Minerua sweete, did seeme yet
but rude irreuerence
To mine, and each one deeme it
But harsh, and plac't with mine, but base esteeme it.
And if I were adorn'd
With hundred mouthes of iron, and like wit,
Or if I had bene borne
With Dimond toongs (admit)
Or sawe my selfe in euery part so fit:
The ruine, nor the fall
Of those, whom Ioue from scaled heauen did throwe,
Nor that great floud, when all
The drowned world did flowe,
I would not tell, nor time in them bestowe.
Onely by me thy praise
(O Chastitie) with honour should be told:
And with thy heauenly waies
I would no lesse vnfold
Those goodly partes, that thou dost still vphold.
Thou art a weeder out
Of vices, from the place of vertues graine:
And thou dost go about
Our honours to maintaine,
And dost our soules from cancred vice restraine.
The onely way and signe
Thou art, that doth the soule to vertue leade,
A captaine most diuine,
That vnder foote dost tread
Thy foes: Thy fort and tower no force doe dread.
Foule leacherie doth kill
Reason, if that it conquered hath the same,

229

And captiue to her will
Doth make it (to her shame:)
So to the maid the Mistresse subiect came.
Thou chastitie dost free
Reason (if to thy gate she bend her pace)
In more supreme degree:
And she in euery place
Is onely free, that doth thy lawe imbrace.
The soule with sweetest balme
Thou fillest, and the senses dost refine,
And therewithall, the palme
Of beautie most diuine
Thy figure beares, where brauely it doth shine.
The vaine thoughts of the minde,
Which reason cannot with her counsell tame,
Nor friendly discipline,
Thy wisedome doth reclame:
And apt to each good art the soule dost frame.
Being sincere, and pure,
Thou ioinest vs to things pure, and sincere,
And so thou dost assure
Those, that thy robe doe weare,
Friends vnto God, a conscience free from feare.
In vaine I heere doe waste
These wordes, wherewith thy praises I pretend:
Better it were (at last)
In action to commend
Thee, then with words; And so I make an end.

233

[O World, false world, and like to hell belowe]

O World , false world, and like to hell belowe,
Alake of filthinesse, and puddle mud:
A sea, where teares and miseries doe flowe:
A trauell without ease, or hope of good:
A pit of sorrow, and of endlesse woe:
A region full of brambles, thornes, and brakes:
A meadow full of adders, toades, and snakes.
A ceaslesse greefe, a false delight, and pleasure
Of men that goe on wheeles, and dancing scope:
Of him, that counteth thee his trust and treasure,
And of thy worldlings, false and vainest hope:
A heape of woes, that hath no end nor measure:
A hideous hill of care, and dwelling place
Of monsters, and of paine an endlesse race.
A poison sweete, a hony full of gall:
A dungeon of despaire, a dismall field
Of wretchednes, of seruitude, and all
Infections, that ten thousand deathes doth yeeld.
A hell, a filth, a miserie, and thrall,
A care, a greefe, a paine, a plague, a sore,
A slauerie, a death, and what is more.
Many that haue endur'd thy yoke of paine,
Haue gone about in colours to depaint
Thy wicked slightes, with which thou still dost traine
Distressed soules vnto an endlesse plaint.

234

And they poore soules haue labour'd all in vaine:
But I, if that my greefe will suffer me,
By triall can vnfold thy miserie.
Thy properties so false I haue concealed,
Thy wicked workes (till now) I haue endured:
From thy deceits I neuer yet appealed,
Feare of thy wrath my patient minde coniured
To passe that, which I neuer yet reuealed.
And not to play with thee (false world) at ouuert,
But euer in thy blazons to be couert.
Now without feare, for now I am assured,
That more thou canst not doe, then done alreadie:
Now may I boldly tell what I endured,
(Although in vaine) to helpe my greefe so steady:
Thus euer hath the want of feare procured
The poore mans song, as by the way he goeth,
Fearing no theeues, whose harme the rich man knoweth.
O with the sweetenes false world thou dost glut vs
Of thy enchaunted baites that doe delight vs,
And in thy nets of pleasures thou dost shut vs,
Where with thy hidden hookes thou dost requite vs:
And after all when smoothly thou hast put vs
In danger, then too open thou dost show them,
When with resistance we cannot forgoe them.
Thy promises are great, thy giftes are failing,
And not to challenge them thou dost disdaine vs:
In thy enormous vices we are sailing
With winde in poope, where still thou dost detaine vs;
And in the end though nothing then auailing,
The shelues and rockes to vs thou art a showing,
When backward our fraile barke cannot be going.
Yet some, though few, haue left thee with aduise,
Fearing thy sudden frowne and wonted pranks:
And others (though too late they haue beene wise)
To their good hap haue giuen a thousand thankes,
Whose eares thy Syren songs could not entice,
Seeing the pay that thou didst giue to mee
For all the seruice I haue done to thee.
And how for good with ill thou dost requite,
Thou puttest out our eies, and then in vaine,
With comfort wouldst annoynt our blinded sight:
Thou woundest all, bicause none may complaine

235

Alone, or feele the measure of thy spight,
Saying it is an ease to wretched men
In miserie to haue companions then.
But wofull man vncomfortlesse, and sad,
Alone in all this ill, and endlesse paine,
The greatest greefe, that euer any had,
Comparison with mine cannot maintaine:
Disherited I am, in sorrowes clad:
For Stela was the key of all my ioy,
Helme of this ship, that lucklesse stars destroy.
Tell me (false world) why didst thou me create
A man? for not, Stela I had not got,
Not got, not lou'd, not lou'd her, this estate
Not suffred, nor intangled in this knot
Of miseries, that is so intricate.
Then world of woe, in wickednes so rise,
What ease canst thou affoord to my poore life?
O wretched world, in thee I doe remaine
Against my will, thou maist commaund me then:
And since thy snares, thy nets, thy hookes, thy chaines,
With which thou dost deceiue vs silly men
And our subiected wils vnto thy traine,
Who shall accompany my wearied eies,
And this old age from sorrowes warrantize?
O Stela then, my loue, and all my good,
My sweete companion, tell me, may it be,
That this faire face, this figure, and the bud
Of such braue beautie may be hid from me,
And drowned in this deepe and wrongfull flood?
O bitter chaunce, O Iupiter, O Gods,
Is cruelty with beauty thus at ods?
O wretched man, misfortunes onely white,
What shall I doe, when I doe finde the place
Sole, and alone, where whilome my delight
was woont to be? O greefe and heauie case,
When calling on her sweatest name, no wight,
Nor happy answere soundeth in my eares
To comfort me, but shewes of thousand feares?
Then since she liues not, that did giue me life,
Death shall be welcome and most sweete to mee:
Dying with her, to end this cruell strife
Of life and death (Sweete) I will come to thee.

236

And weeping, where my cleerest light is hid,
There wretched man my life I meane to rid.

[Daughter, that in this deere]

Daughter , that in this deere
And christall riuer hast thy dwelling place
With Nymphes: O harken heere
To me a little space,
Parisiles, thy wofull fathers case.
Deny not him thy sight,
Who euer did for thee himselfe despise:
The absence of thy light,
And heauenly shining eies,
Vnto his soule a bitter death applies.
With so consumes his breath,
That liuing thus, his life he doth defie:
For such a life is death,

237

And he would rather die,
Then leaue to liue without thy companie.
Ioy now, (and doe not stay)
An aged man consum'd with greefe, vnlesse
That thou wilt haue him say,
The loue thou didst professe
To him, was all but fain'd, as he may gesse.
Why dost thou stay so long
A wretched soule with comfort to sustaine?
O come and breake this strong,
And mourning vale in twaine
Of his affliction, miserie, and paine.
My soule, thou woont'st with glee
To heare this voice: but either I am not,
As once I woont to bee,
Or thou art chang'd, I wot,
Or thy poore father els thou hast forgot.
But first I pray to God,
Then such obliuion in thy brest should bee,
My vitall period
May finish, not to see
My selfe forgot of her, that loued mee.
Come then my hart, and cleere
Thee of this doubt, this fauour let me trie:
If not, this riuer cleere
Shall hide me by and by,
For there with thee I meane to liue or die.

238

[Parisiles, thy dolefull song and playning]

Parisiles, thy dolefull song and playning,
Thy piteous sighes, and weeping without measure
(To comfort thee) haue made this goodly quire
Leaue their aboades, and stately seates of pleasure.
Afflict not then thy selfe, but cease thy paining,
And let thy wearied soule to rest aspire:
Let plains begun, retire,
And be in ioy, and happy gladnes ended:
And be not now offended
Parisiles, or carefull for thy daughter;
For hither we haue brought her
In good estate, for thee to see her, knowing,
That more then this to both we all are owing.
If that the Gods are iust in any wise,
Then are they bound to helpe those that doe pray
To them for helpe, and in their seruice liue.
Then since that you your selues did euer giue
To follow them, and choose the better way
In honouring vs by deede and sacrifice,
The best we can deuise
Of all good turnes, that may your loue requite,
Belongs to you of right:
Parisiles, the Gods in heauen doe knowe
In sea, and earth belowe
Thy things, and haue of them a greater care,
Then thou maist thinke, and of thy happy fare.
For which thing, they themselues had first ordeined
That Stela, the most monstrous Shepheard flying,
Should cast her selfe into this cleerest riuer,
For knowing, what her fates and stars would giue her,
Their influence with all their helpe denying
By secret meanes her fortune, they restrained,
And such a signe that rained
Ouer her head, that threat'ned to destroy her,
And present to annoy her:
They therefore will she liue within our bowres,
Vntill these lucklesse howres
Doe passe, and while this signe and fate expires,
Vnwoorthy her deserts, and high desires.
The Sonne of Goddesse Cytherea shall
Heereafter be the cause of her despaire:
(The cruell) wounding her with doubtfull loue:
And so this loue, that shall so doubtfull fall,
Great strife in her, and many wars shall moue,
Not knowing which to choose, that is most faire,

239

Her brest (loues sweete repaire)
Continually shall wauer on two men,
Inclining now and then
Her loue to one, then to another straight:
Poore soule she shall await
In this suspence, not knowing to define
To whether of them both she should incline?
And thinke not that th' immortall Gods intended
To bar these loues, that heere I am declaring,
Nor their successe would euer haue denied:
For being to a vertuous end applied,
Either of both they would not haue suspended:
Alas, it is their fate such woes preparing,
Not one nor other sparing.
Both for one cause in one loue shall be chained,
And both alike be pained:
But yet the Gods shall euer be procuring,
That, Stela then enduring
These hardest haps shall not with those be placed,
Whom Fortune alwaies checkes, and hath disgraced.
But thou must comfort thee aboue the rest,
If of these three, the hard and cruell fate
Cannot be shunn'd; their ioies that must adiourne:
After these woes Fortune shall make them blest,
Shewing her face milde and propitiate,
Gentle, and sweete: Then shall they cease to mourne,
For she her wheele shall turne:
Annoyes to ioyes, their sighes to sweetest songs
Shall turne, and all their wrongs
Shall cease: Their woes, their miseries, and teares,
Their sorrowes, greefes, and feares
Shall be one day conuerted into ioy,
Which neuer after Fortune shall destroy.
Thy daughter then (Parisiles) imbrace,
And so restore her to this place againe,
The heauens must haue their race:
Then let them run: And cease to mourne in vaine.

242

[Who comes into this place, let her take heede]

Who comes into this place, let her take heede
How she hath liu'd, and whether she hath kept
The gift of chastitie in thought and deede.
And see besides, if she hath euer stept,
With wauering minde to forren loue estranged,
And for the same, her first afection changed,
May enter in Dianas Temple heere,
Whose grace and vertues soueraine appeere.

243

The end of the third booke.