Diana of George of Montemayor :: :: University of Virginia Library

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.