Diana of George of Montemayor Translated out of Spanish into English by Bartholomew Yong |
 |
 | 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
| 1. |
| 2. |
| 3. |
| 4. |
| 5. |
| 6. |
| 7. |
| 8. | The eight Booke of the second Part of Diana of George of Montemayor. |
| 3. |
 | Diana of George of Montemayor |  |
The eight Booke of the second Part of Diana of George of Montemayor.
355
Disteus his letter to Dardanea.
To
thee the comfort of all mortall men,
Of all men liuing the most comfortlesse,
Health (if discomfort any such can send)
If any left, doth send with happinesse.
Of all men liuing the most comfortlesse,
Health (if discomfort any such can send)
If any left, doth send with happinesse.
I wish no ease of all my ceaselesse paine,
If that a thousand times when I did take
In hand to write to thee, I left againe
My pen as oft, when hand and hart did quake.
If that a thousand times when I did take
In hand to write to thee, I left againe
My pen as oft, when hand and hart did quake.
I launch't into the maine and broadest seas,
Knowing no port, nor friendly land, or coast
To saile vnto (my shaken barke to ease,
With raging waues and furious tempests tost)
Knowing no port, nor friendly land, or coast
To saile vnto (my shaken barke to ease,
With raging waues and furious tempests tost)
356
For on the one side if I thought to write,
To make thee knowe my paine which thou hast wrought:
Thy high desertes on th' other came in sight,
To beate downe such a far vnwoorthy thought.
To make thee knowe my paine which thou hast wrought:
Thy high desertes on th' other came in sight,
To beate downe such a far vnwoorthy thought.
My wearied torments did commaund an I,
Thy soueraine highnes did forbid a No,
And that commaund with reason did denie,
Such woorthinesse and glorie it did showe.
Thy soueraine highnes did forbid a No,
And that commaund with reason did denie,
Such woorthinesse and glorie it did showe.
But after this proud boldnes came in place,
Perswading me I should doe well before
To write to thee: But feare did him disgrace,
And said I should but anger thee the more.
Perswading me I should doe well before
To write to thee: But feare did him disgrace,
And said I should but anger thee the more.
And therefore now as feare did ouercome
Braue boldnes, and had throwne it to the ground,
And now that all my senses waxed numme
By feare, which did my feeble hope confound.
Braue boldnes, and had throwne it to the ground,
And now that all my senses waxed numme
By feare, which did my feeble hope confound.
Couragiously the God of Loue came in,
And said, vnwoorthy feare packe hence, away:
And come no more, for now thou shalt not win:
I doe commaund, Loue doth commaund I say.
And said, vnwoorthy feare packe hence, away:
And come no more, for now thou shalt not win:
I doe commaund, Loue doth commaund I say.
And turning to me in this sort he saide,
As by commaund, nor gently by request,
The fire (when once it is in flames displaide)
Hides not it selfe, but makes it manifest:
As by commaund, nor gently by request,
The fire (when once it is in flames displaide)
Hides not it selfe, but makes it manifest:
Euen so it is impossible to hide
My firie flames, from being sometimes knowne,
And though I would not, yet on euery side
They issue out, that easily they are knowne.
My firie flames, from being sometimes knowne,
And though I would not, yet on euery side
They issue out, that easily they are knowne.
Since then thy Nymph celestiall must knowe,
Either too soone or late thy cruell flame,
Let first thy mouth declare to her thy woe,
Then to thy hand and pen commend the same.
Either too soone or late thy cruell flame,
Let first thy mouth declare to her thy woe,
Then to thy hand and pen commend the same.
I answered (God wot with fainting hart)
To write to her, it is my chiefe desire;
But if she chaunce to frowne at this bold part,
O God defend my pen should cause her ire.
To write to her, it is my chiefe desire;
But if she chaunce to frowne at this bold part,
O God defend my pen should cause her ire.
Thus Loue at last perceiuing what a faint
And hartlesse coward I was, in the end
He wrote to thee, by pitying of my plaint,
And in my name Loue doth this letter send.
And hartlesse coward I was, in the end
He wrote to thee, by pitying of my plaint,
And in my name Loue doth this letter send.
357
And now bicause thy minde it may not mooue
To anger, by receiuing of the same:
And if thou think'st thy honour I doe prooue,
Knowe from a God, and from no man it came.
To anger, by receiuing of the same:
And if thou think'st thy honour I doe prooue,
Knowe from a God, and from no man it came.
Euen from the God of Loue, who is a God
Of highest birth, whose power doth extend
In heauen, and earth, where he makes his abode,
Both paying tribute to him without end.
Of highest birth, whose power doth extend
In heauen, and earth, where he makes his abode,
Both paying tribute to him without end.
So that it is the mighty God of Loue
That erres (if that in writing he doth erre)
Against Loue therefore all thy anger mooue,
(If this to wrath thy modest minde may stirre.)
That erres (if that in writing he doth erre)
Against Loue therefore all thy anger mooue,
(If this to wrath thy modest minde may stirre.)
Harke well (my deerest Mistresse) what I say,
That if this letter breedeth thy offence,
Be thou reueng'd of Loue, which did assay
To write, and not of me for this pretence.
That if this letter breedeth thy offence,
Be thou reueng'd of Loue, which did assay
To write, and not of me for this pretence.
But by the way I tell thee as a friend,
That if with Loue thou dost begin to striue,
With nature and her lawes thou dost contend,
For making thee the fairest one aliue.
That if with Loue thou dost begin to striue,
With nature and her lawes thou dost contend,
For making thee the fairest one aliue.
For if she haue of purpose giuen thee
Beautie, and grace, and in thy brest hath fram'd
The onely patterne of gentilitie,
That beauties Paragon thou maist be nam'd.
Beautie, and grace, and in thy brest hath fram'd
The onely patterne of gentilitie,
That beauties Paragon thou maist be nam'd.
And to lay vp her riches all in one,
Of all her treasure she hath now despoild
The world, and made it poore in leauing none,
And to make thee the onely one hath toild.
Of all her treasure she hath now despoild
The world, and made it poore in leauing none,
And to make thee the onely one hath toild.
Hath she not reason then to be offended,
If by the gemme, where she her vtmost tride,
She would haue seene and knowne how far extended
Her passing skill, which thou dost seeke to hide?
If by the gemme, where she her vtmost tride,
She would haue seene and knowne how far extended
Her passing skill, which thou dost seeke to hide?
Hath she not reason to be angrie, when
The patterne of her skill and onely one
Hides from the world and buries in a den
Her treasures, which so faine she would haue knowne?
The patterne of her skill and onely one
Hides from the world and buries in a den
Her treasures, which so faine she would haue knowne?
For sure I knowe, if that thou meanest not
To loue, thou buriest all her partes in thee:
And dost thou thinke, that anything is got
By flying Loue, and natures best decree?
To loue, thou buriest all her partes in thee:
And dost thou thinke, that anything is got
By flying Loue, and natures best decree?
358
And if thou think'st heerein to doe amisse,
Or hurt thy selfe by louing, yet at lest
Suffer thy selfe to be belou'd. And this
Fond error driue out of thy tender brest.
Or hurt thy selfe by louing, yet at lest
Suffer thy selfe to be belou'd. And this
Fond error driue out of thy tender brest.
O suffer of thine owne accord and will,
For forced thou shalt be to this for euer:
While thou and I doe liue, and shalt be still
After thy death and mine, and ended neuer.
For forced thou shalt be to this for euer:
While thou and I doe liue, and shalt be still
After thy death and mine, and ended neuer.
Then will me not (Dardanea) to forsake
My perfect loue, which now I haue bewraied:
For more thou dost commaund the lesse I make
Account of it, and lesse shalt be obaied.
My perfect loue, which now I haue bewraied:
For more thou dost commaund the lesse I make
Account of it, and lesse shalt be obaied.
And thinke thou art not wronged any whit,
Bicause what thou (faire Mistresse) dost commaund
Is not obaide, for heere it is not fit
Where life for loue and loue for life is pawn'd.
Bicause what thou (faire Mistresse) dost commaund
Is not obaide, for heere it is not fit
Where life for loue and loue for life is pawn'd.
Leaue thou if that thou canst the same thou hast,
Yeelding to nature, what so much on thee
She hath bestowde, and change thy life that's past,
And leaue moreouer what thou mean'st to be.
Yeelding to nature, what so much on thee
She hath bestowde, and change thy life that's past,
And leaue moreouer what thou mean'st to be.
Then shalt thou see thy most vniust desire
Fulfill'd, and will perform'd without defect,
Although thou didst the contrarie require,
As fearing colours with some vaine suspect.
Fulfill'd, and will perform'd without defect,
Although thou didst the contrarie require,
As fearing colours with some vaine suspect.
But now why should'st thou leaue a perfect being,
By taking that which more imperfect is?
As first mens eies the like was neuer seeing,
The second voide of comfort, ioy and blisse.
By taking that which more imperfect is?
As first mens eies the like was neuer seeing,
The second voide of comfort, ioy and blisse.
So that (sweete Mistresse) it becomes thee not
To anger Loue, and Nature to offend,
For thou art bound (whom they haue not forgot)
Their lawes to loue, their essence to defend.
To anger Loue, and Nature to offend,
For thou art bound (whom they haue not forgot)
Their lawes to loue, their essence to defend.
Since that thy beauties in the world resound,
And dost in vertue hold the highest place,
And dost in knowledge and in wit abound,
In modestie, and euery other grace:
And dost in vertue hold the highest place,
And dost in knowledge and in wit abound,
In modestie, and euery other grace:
Make them illustrous then by thy requiting,
Take heede, Ingratitude is full of hate,
Hate to reuenge is euer more inuiting,
And so reuenge waites at obliuions gate.
Take heede, Ingratitude is full of hate,
Hate to reuenge is euer more inuiting,
And so reuenge waites at obliuions gate.
359
And thinke not, that I speake these wordes in iest,
For to a cruell Goddesse it belongs
This vice (which all the world doth so detest)
To punish, and torment ingratefull wrongs.
For to a cruell Goddesse it belongs
This vice (which all the world doth so detest)
To punish, and torment ingratefull wrongs.
And Nemesis the angrie is her name,
Whose vnresisted might who doth not knowe?
Equall she is and neuer but the same,
Impartially to deale with friend or foe.
Whose vnresisted might who doth not knowe?
Equall she is and neuer but the same,
Impartially to deale with friend or foe.
Alas I would she might not finde in thee
So great a fault, as none more great then this,
Since from all other faultes thou shalt be free,
If but this fault alone thou wilt dismisse.
So great a fault, as none more great then this,
Since from all other faultes thou shalt be free,
If but this fault alone thou wilt dismisse.
But thou maist say, why should thy haplesse fare
Trouble my minde, or thy good please my will,
Or what haue I to doe to take such care,
Whether thy fortune fall out good or ill?
Trouble my minde, or thy good please my will,
Or what haue I to doe to take such care,
Whether thy fortune fall out good or ill?
To answere this, I cannot well replie,
Let it suffice thee, that the lest suspect
Of any harme thou hast doth make me die,
And worse then death torments me in effect.
Let it suffice thee, that the lest suspect
Of any harme thou hast doth make me die,
And worse then death torments me in effect.
Deere Lady, then I would not haue thee prooue
The cruell shaft of angrie Nemesis:
For first let each infernall power mooue
Their plagues against me of eternall Dis.
The cruell shaft of angrie Nemesis:
For first let each infernall power mooue
Their plagues against me of eternall Dis.
But now I would be glad if thou wouldst tast
The sweete and golden flight of Cupids poure,
Bicause my torments, which are gone and past,
Pitie thou might'st and those I feele this howre.
The sweete and golden flight of Cupids poure,
Bicause my torments, which are gone and past,
Pitie thou might'st and those I feele this howre.
For if thou knew'st my paines and pitious case,
With pitie and teares thou wouldst my life deplore,
Not for my merits, which are very base,
But for my loue, which well deserueth more.
With pitie and teares thou wouldst my life deplore,
Not for my merits, which are very base,
But for my loue, which well deserueth more.
Each thing that is created heere so fit,
An equall hauing in a diuers kinde,
In such like kinde a paiment doth admit,
By measuring the debt that is behinde,
An equall hauing in a diuers kinde,
In such like kinde a paiment doth admit,
By measuring the debt that is behinde,
But as fell loue no equall doth containe,
In such a diuers kinde and different,
By selfe same thing it paies it selfe againe:
Loue must be paid with loue of good intent.
In such a diuers kinde and different,
By selfe same thing it paies it selfe againe:
Loue must be paid with loue of good intent.
360
Then since it is most euident and cleere,
That I doe prize thy loue at such a rate,
Thou must requite my loue againe so deere,
If Nemesis ingratitude doth hate.
That I doe prize thy loue at such a rate,
Thou must requite my loue againe so deere,
If Nemesis ingratitude doth hate.
But if thou dost not purpose to requite
The loue, that I haue borne, and beare thee still;
And with like loue to ease my heauie plight,
And greeuous paines for thy procuring ill:
The loue, that I haue borne, and beare thee still;
And with like loue to ease my heauie plight,
And greeuous paines for thy procuring ill:
My hands of life shall then vndoe the chaine,
But not of loue (by death to ease my death)
And so requite me, when no other meane
Is left, to make me still enioy this breath.
But not of loue (by death to ease my death)
And so requite me, when no other meane
Is left, to make me still enioy this breath.
For sure if that my life be of this sort,
My life is death, and dying is my life:
My death is sweete, a pleasure, ioy and sport,
Liuing in such a world of amorous strife.
My life is death, and dying is my life:
My death is sweete, a pleasure, ioy and sport,
Liuing in such a world of amorous strife.
But now I cease, my teares fall in such store,
And painfull soule for greefe can write no more.
And painfull soule for greefe can write no more.
362
Dardaneas answere to Disteus.
To thee the most presumptuous without leaue,Counsell, not health, by these few lines I send,
That am more fearfull then thou maist conceaue:
If that I thought mine honour to offend
By answering thee, constraind as thou maist see,
Or answering not, it might the more extend,
Rather then I would thus much pleasure thee,
Or would vouchsafe to take my pen in hand,
First would I take a sword to murder me.
Mine end is good, and doth with vertue stand,
And if thou dost thinke otherwise then so,
Thou art deceiu'd as much as any man:
For if my reason soundly thou wilt knowe,
And weigh my wordes but with attentiue minde,
And note each sentence that heerein I showe:
By all the foresaid thou shalt onely finde,
How I pretend to giue thee sound aduise,
And holesome counsell fit for one so blinde:
Which is, that thou leaue of this enterprise
(If that thou canst) and flie a thought so vaine,
Or at the least conceale it from mine eies.
I knowe not, and the ground cannot obtaine,
That made thee write to me this other day:
Nor yet from whence such boldnes thou might'st gaine.
But now I doe remember thou didst say,
That loue not thou, those louing lines did write,
363
Fancies they are, like to the dreames by night,
Common to louers (if there any bee)
To manifest his childish toies so light.
Poore God of loue, thy seruants all agree
As many as doe waite vpon thy traine,
To lay their faultes most commonly in thee:
If childish toies I saide: doe not disdaine:
For this God, whom thou dost so much obay,
Is but a childe, thy wordes doe shew it plaine.
Thou seem'st to shew the same by wordes, I say,
By deedes I knowe not, nor I doe pretend
To knowe, though deedes by words thou dost display.
Which last of all in men I comprehend,
Which are more wordes then works in plaine effect:
In case this God of loue their mindes offend,
If that your harts so plainly could detect
That, which your mouth expresseth by her voice,
We should not hold your loues in such suspect.
But truth it is, I doe no whit reioice,
For nothing it concerneth me at all,
To heare thee vaunt thee of thy loue and choice:
And that as firme as any brazen wall,
And more then rocks vpon the shorie sandes,
In fortunes fauour or in fortunes thrall:
That like an Oke against the winde it standes,
Like hardest Dimond to the beating steele,
Like Salamander in the flaming brandes.
And that againe it turneth like the wheele,
And wauers more then beames of shaken glasse,
More then the waues, that tumble still and reele,
More changing then the weathercocke (Alas)
In towres, and more then Cynthia in her skie:
And more then men in loue their liues that passe.
This hurts me little, nor I care not I,
Wherefore it shall be better for thy ease,
Not to loue her, that doth thy loue denie.
Then seeke some other with thy loue to please
Against thy loue that will not so rebell,
And where thou maist swim in contented seas:
For (sooth) thy person hath deserued well
To be beloued of some other dame,
For many giftes in which thou dost excell.
There is no Lady, but would wish the same,
Nor scorne thy loue, but euer thinke her blest
That she might call thee by her louers name.
And sooner shalt thou want (to match thy brest)
A Lady fit (respecting thy desert)
364
Of purpose heere thy praises I insert,
For thou didst so much wander in my praise,
That onely this for thanks I doe reuert.
And wordes for wordes doe giue thee now in paise,
And if thou hast extolled me much better,
So all thy giftes in euerie place I blaze,
Ingratefull thou didst call me in thy letter,
And there the proofe was false and very vaine,
And therefore thou must yet remaine my detter.
Although it were not so, thou saidst againe
That I was bound to loue, in being faire,
So worldling like thine argument was plaine.
But see how reason doth the same impaire,
For brighter doth each womans beautie shine,
The more she shines in praise of vertues rare.
So that I shall make nature more diuine,
In following Dianas honest traine,
Then Venus steps, or her fond discipline.
To please her sonne I euer thought it vaine,
Since him I cannot, and Diana please,
For she is chast, dishonest is his chaine.
To serue Apollos sister, sweetest ease
And greatest honour by her loue is got.
Who serues fond loue is drown'd in dolefull seas.
If after Venus sonne thou art so hot,
And dost intend to follow his desires,
If so it please, then how maiest thou not?
I doe not meane to loue what he requires:
And let this God euen worke with me his fill,
He neuer shall consume me in his fires.
Let him not seeke but her, that seekes her ill,
Let him not wound but those that loue his wounds,
Nor subiect those that care not for his will.
But now I knowe not to what purpose soundes
These reasons, that disswade me to imbrace
Cupid thy God, that reason still confoundes.
Since that vnto my will he giueth place,
And on the same his liking doth depend,
Reason in me his colours doe deface.
T'is therefore reason, to the which I tend,
And great it is, since it doth satisfie
My minde, and doth the same so well defend.
Thou writ'st, that if to loue thee I denie,
That I would suffer thee to loue me yet,
Against my will for loue yet wilt thou die.
A pretie meanes procoeding from thy wit,
To pray me not thy deere loue to preuent,
365
I greeue I cannot hinder this intent,
But if (in fine) perforce vnto my paine
Thou wilt loue me, perforce I must consent.
If that from being lou'd, I could remaine,
(As from all loue) in faith I neuer would
Haue left it to thy choosing to abstaine.
For he that lou'd me with such rigour should
Be punish't, that he should haue thence no soule
To loue me, if his loue preuent I could.
But Ile doe that which no man shall controule,
Which is that none presume to manifest
His loue to me so wanton and so bolde.
Let therefore punishment thy minde suggest,
To mooue this fancie from thy idle minde,
A fancie first conceiu'd within thy brest,
Of no good ground where hope thou canst not finde:
Hope is exil'd where honour taketh place;
Honour is deere to women of my kinde:
Virgins I meane, and liuing in the face
Of all the world with honour and renowne.
Which if it be but staind, each other grace
She hath, with no recou'rie falleth downe.
If then these few perswasions cannot make
Thee change thy minde, nor now this present frowne,
Nor trembling hands, which now for anger shake
By writing of these lines with little rest,
Nor feare of punishment make thee forsake
This fond conceit nurc'd vainly in thy brest,
When thou maist neuer hope to haue a day;
Then let mine honour mooue thee (at the lest)
To make thee hide this fier (if you may)
Wherewith thou saist thy brest is so inflam'd:
Marke this, and let thy wits not so estray.
If that thou saist, that hardly is reclam'd
The fire of loue, and hardly hid againe;
To tell it Palna lesse thou shalt be blam'd.
But since thy hope incertaine is and vaine,
And all thy harmes most sure, then ope the dore
(To helpe thee) to obliuion and disdaine.
And thus I end in hope to heare no more.
Whosoever therefore is desirous to see the funerall of Delius, the riualitie of Syrenius, Firmius, and Faustus, and be at all their meetings, and takes any pleasure to know who Stela is, and would faine knowe what
her troubles, and those of Crimine, Delicius and Parthenius, haue beene, and to what ende they came, as also the loue of Agenestor, prince of Eolia and of Lustea daughter to Disteus and Dardanea, let him attende me in the third part of this work, which shall come to light out of hande.
La vita il Fin, e'l di lodà la fera.
| Diana of George of Montemayor | |