Diella :: :: University of Virginia Library

When first the feather'd God did strike my hart,
with fatall and ymedicable wound,
Leauing behind the head of his fell dart,
my bloodlesse body fell vnto the ground;
And, when with shame I reinforc'd my might,
boldly to gaze on her so heauenly face,
Huge flames of fire she darted from her light,
which since haue scorcht me in most pitious case,
To quench which heate, an Ocean of teares
haue gushed out from forth my red-swolne eyes,
But deep-fetch'd sighes this raging flame vpreares,
and blowes the sparkes vp to the purple skies.
Whereat, the Gods afraid that heauen should burne,
Intreated Loue that I for e're might mourne.

Sonnet II.

[Soone as the Azur-color'd Gates of th' East]

Soone as the Azur-color'd Gates of th' East,
were set wide open by the watchful Morne,
I walkt abroad, (as hauing tooke no rest)
(for nights are tedious to a man forlorne,)
And viewing well each pearle-bedewed flower,
then waxing dry by splendour of the sunne,
All scarled-hew'd I saw him gin to lower,
and blush, as though some haynous act were don.
At this amaz'd, I hy'de me home amaine,
thinking that I his anger caused had;
And at his set, abroad I walkt againe,
when (loe) the Moone lookt wondrous pale and sad.
Anger the one, and enuie mou'd the other,
To see my loue more faire then Loues faire mother.

Sonnet III.

[Swift-footed Time, looke back & here mark well]

Swift-footed Time, looke back & here mark well
those rare-shapt parts my pen shal now declare:
My mistres snow-white skinne doth much excell
the pure-soft woll Arcadyan sheepe doe beare;
Her hayre exceedes gold forc'd in smallest wyre,
in smaller threds then those Arachne spun;
Her eyes are christall fountaines, yet dart fire,
more glorious to behold then Mid-day sun;
Her Iuory front, (though soft as purest silke)
lookes like the table of Olympick Ioue,
Her cheekes are like ripe cherries layd in milke,
her Alablaster neck the throne of Loue;
Her other parts so farre excell the rest,
That wanting words, they cannot be exprest.

Sonnet IIII.

[What sugred termes, what all-perswading arte]

What sugred termes, what all-perswading arte,
what sweet mellifluous words, what woūding lookes
Loue vsd for his admittance to my hart?
such eloquence was neuer read in bookes;
He promisd pleasure, rest, and endlesse ioy,
fruition of the fairest shee aliue,
His pleasure paine, rest trouble, ioy annoy,
haue I since found, which me of blisse depriue;
The Troian horse thus haue I now let in,
wherein inclosd these armed men were plac'd,
Bright eyes, faire cheekes, sweet lips, & milk-white skin
these foes my life haue ouerthrown & raz'd.
Faire outward shewes, proue inwardly the worst,
Loue looketh faire, but Louers are accurst.

Sonnet V.

[The little Archer viewing well my loue]

The little Archer viewing well my loue,
stone-still amaz'd, admired such a sight,
And swore he knew none such to dwell aboue,
though many faire, none so conspicuous bright:
With that inrag'd, (flamigerous as he is)
he now gan loathe his Psiches louely face,
And swore great othes to rob me of my blisse,
saying that earth for her was too too base;
But Cytherea checkt her lordly sonne,
commaunding him to bring no giglet thether,
Fearing indeed, her amorous sports were done
with hote-spur Mars, if hee should once but see her.
If then her beauty moue the Gods aboue,
Let all men iudge if I haue cause to loue.

Sonnet VI.

[Mirror of beautie, Natures fairest chyld]

Mirror of beautie, Natures fairest chyld,
Empresse of loue, my harts high-prized Iewell,
Learne of the Doue, to loue and to be milde,
be not to him that honors thee so cruell,
But as the Aspe, deafe, angry, nothing meeke,
thou wilt not listen to my dolefull plaint,
Nor once wilt looke on my discolored cheeke,
which wanting blood, causeth me oft to faint;
Then silent will I be, if that will please thee,
yet so, as in my stead, each Plaine, each Hill,
Shall eccho forth my griefe, and thereby ease mee,
for I my selfe of speaking haue my fill;
If Plaines, and Hills, be silent in my paine,
My death shall speake, and tell what I sustaine.

Sonnet VII.

[Whē Loue had first besieg'd my harts strong wal]

Whē Loue had first besieg'd my harts strong wal,
rampaird and countermur'd with chastitie,
And had with Ordnance made his tops to fall,
stouping their glory to his surquedry,
I call'd a parley, and withall did craue
some composition, or some friendly peace;
To this request, he his consent soone gaue,
as seeming glad such cruell warrs should cease,
I, (nought mistrusting) opened all the gates,
yea, lodg'd him in the Pallace of my hart,
VVhen (loe) in dead of night he seekes his mates,
and shewes each Traytor how to play his part;
VVith that they fir'de my hart, and thence gan flie,
Their names, Sweet smiles, Faire face, & piercing Eye

Sonnet VIII.

[Like to a Faulcon watching for a flight]

Like to a Faulcon watching for a flight,
duly attending his desired game,
Haue I oft watcht and markt to haue a sight,
of thy faire face exceeding niggard Fame,
Thyne eyes (those Semynaries of my griefe)
haue been more gladsome to my tyred spright,
Then naked sauadges receiue reliefe,
by comfort-bringing warmth of Phœbus light;
But when each part so glorious I had seene,
I trembled more then Autumnes parched leaues,
Mine eyes were greedy whirlepooles sucking in
that heauenly faire which me of rest bereaues;
Then as thy beauty thus hath conquerd mee,
(Faire) let relenting pitty conquer thee.

Sonnet IX.

[Blot not thy beautie (fairest) yet vnkinde]

Blot not thy beautie (fairest) yet vnkinde,
with cruell vsage of a yeelding hart,
The stoutest Captaine scornes such bloody minde,
then mingle mercy where thou causedst smart;
Let him not die in his May-springing dayes,
that liuing vowes to honour thee for euer,
Shine forth some pitty from thy sun-like rayes,
that hard froz'd hate may so dissolue and seuer;
Oh, were thou not much harder then a flint,
thou had'st ere this been melted into loue,
In firmest stone small raine doth make a print,
but seas of teares cannot thy hardnes moue.
Then wretched I must die before my time,
Blasted & spoyled in my budding prime.

Sonnet X.

[When Flora vaunts her in her proude array]

When Flora vaunts her in her proude array,
clothing faire Tellus in a spangled gowne,
VVhen Boreas furie is exild away,
and all the VVelkin cleer'd from cloudy frowne,
At that same time all Natures chyldren ioy,
trees leaues, flowers bud, plants spring, & beasts increase,
Only my soule, surcharg'd wt deep annoy,
cannot reioyce, nor sighes nor teares can cease:
Onely the grafts of sorrow seeme to grow,
set in my hart, no other spring I finde,
Delights and pleasures are o'regrowne with woe,
laments and sobs possesse my weeping minde;
The frost of griefe so nyps Delight at roote,
No sunne but shee can doe it any boote.

Sonnet XI.

[What shee can be so cruell as my Loue]

What shee can be so cruell as my Loue,
or beare a hart so pittilesse as shee?
VVhō loue, lookes, words, teares, prayers doe not moue,
nor sighes, nor vowes preuaile to pittie mee.
Shee calls my loue a Synon to her hart,
my lookes (shee saith) are like the Crocadyles,
My words the Syrens sing with guilefull arte,
teares, Cyrces flouds, sighes, vowes, deceitful guiles,
But my poore hart hath no interpreter,
but loue, lookes, words, teares, prayers, sighes or vowes,
Then must it die, sith shee my Comforter,
what ere I doe, nor liketh, nor allowes.
VVith Titius, thus the vultur Sorrow eats me,
With steele-twig'd rods thus tyrant Cupid beats me.

Sonnet XII.

[Thou, (like the faire-fac'd gold-encouerd booke]

Thou, (like the faire-fac'd gold-encouerd booke,
whose lines are stuft with damned heresies)
Dost in thy face beare a celestial looke,
when in thy hart liue hell-borne cruelties.
With poysenous Toades ye cleerest spring's infected
and purest Launes nought worth if ful of staines,
So is faire beauty when true loue's reiected;
when cole-blacke hate within the hart remaines,
Then loue, (my deere) let that be Methry date
to ouer-come the venome of disdaine;
Be pittifull, tread downe this killing hate,
conuert to sugred pleasure, gall-full paine.
O, sith Disdaine is foe vnto thy Faire,
Exile him thence, there let him not repaire.

Sonnet XIII.

[I know, within my mouth for bashfull feare]

I know, within my mouth for bashfull feare,
and dread of your disdaine, my words wil die;
I know, I shall be striken dumbe (my deere)
with doubt of your vnpittifull reply;
I know, when as I shall before you lie
prostrate and humble, crauing help of you,
Mistie aspects will cloude your sun-bright eye,
& scornefull lookes oreshade your beauties hewe,
I know, when I shall pleade my loue so true,
so stainelesse, constant, loyall, and vpright,
My truthfull pleadings will not cause you rue
the ne're-heard state of my distressed plight.
I know, when I shall come with face bedight
with streaming teares, faln frō my fountaine eyes,

Sonnet XIII.

[Breathing forth sighes of most hart-breaking might]

Breathing forth sighes of most hart-breaking might,
my teares, my sighes, and me, you will despise,
I know, when with the power that in me lyes,
and all the prayers and vowes that women moue,
I shall in humblest mercy-mouing wise
intreate, beseech, desire, and beg your loue,
I know, (sweet mayden) all will not remoue
flynt-harted rigour from your rocky breast,
But all my meanes, my sute, and what I proue,
proues bad, and I must liue in all vnrest.
Dying in life, and liuing still in death,
And yet nor die, nor drawe a life-like breath.

Sonnet XIIII.

[Whē broad-fac'd riuers turne vnto their foūtains]

Whē broad-fac'd riuers turne vnto their foūtains
and hungry Wolues deuoured are by Sheep,
When Marine Dolphins play on snow-tipt Mountains
& foule-form'd Beares do in ye Ocean keep,
Then shall I leaue to loue, and cease to burne
in these hot flames wherein I now delight,
But this I knowe, the Riuers ne're returne,
nor silly Sheep with rauening Wolues dare fight,
Nor Dolphins leaue the Seas, nor Beares the woods,
for Nature bids them all to keepe their kind,
Then eyes, rayne forth your ouer-swelled floods,
till drowned in such Seas may make you blind:
Then (harts delight) sith I must loue thee euer,
Loue me againe, and let thy loue perseuer.

Sonnet XV.

[No sooner leaues Hyperion Thetis bed]

No sooner leaues Hyperion Thetis bed,
and mounts his coach to post from thence away,
Richly adorning faire Leucotheas head,
gyuing to mountaynes tincture from his ray:
But straight I rise, where I could find no rest,
where visions and fantasies appeare,
And when with small adoo my body's drest;
abroad I walke to thinke vpon my deere;
VVhere vnder vmbrage of some aged Tree,
with Lute in hand I sit and (sighing) say,
Sweete Groues tell forth with Eccho what you see:
good Trees beare witnes who is my decay,
And thou my soule, speake, speake, what rest I haue,
When each our ioyes dispayre doth make me raue.

Sonnet XVI.

[Bvt thou my deere sweet-sounding Lute be still]

Bvt thou my deere sweet-sounding Lute be still,
repose thy troubled strings vpon this mosse,
Thou hast full often easd me gainst my will,
lye down in peace, thy spoile were my great losse,
Ile speake inough of her (too cruell) hart,
enough to mooue the stonie Rocks to ruth,
And cause these trees weepe tears to heare my smart
though (cruell she) will not once way my truth,
Her face is of the purest white and red,
her eyes are christall, and her haire is gold,
The world for shape with garlands crown her head,
And yet a Tygresse hart dwells in this mold:
But I must loue her (Tigresse) too too much,
Forc'd must I loue, because I finde none such.

Sonnet XVII.

[The sun-scorcht Sea-man when he sees the Seas]

The sun-scorcht Sea-man when he sees the Seas
all in a furie hoist him to the skye,
And throwe him down againe (as waues do please)
(so chased clouds from Eols mastiues flye)
In such distresse prouideth with great speede
all meanes to saue him from the tempests rage,
Hee shewes his wit in such lyke time of neede,
the big-swolne billowes furie to asswage;
But foolish I; although I see my death,
and feels her proud disdayne too feelinglie,
VVhich me of all felicitie bereaueth,
yet seeke no meanes t'escape this miserie:
So am I charm'd with hart-inchaunting beautie,
That still to waile I thinke it is my dutie.

Sonnet XVIII.

[Cvpid had done some heynous act or other]

Cvpid had done some heynous act or other,
that caus'd Idalea whip him very sore;
The stubborne Boy away runs from his Mother,
protesting stoutly to returne no more;
By chance I met him, who desir'd reliefe,
and crau'd that I some lodging would him giue,
Pittying his lookes which seemed drown'd in griefe,
I tooke him home there thinking hee should liue,
But see the Boy; enuying at my lyfe,
which neuer sorrowe, neuer loue had tasted,
Hee rays'd within my hart such vncouth stryfe,
that with the same my body now is wasted:
By thanklesse Loue, thus vilely am I vsed,
By vsing kindnes, I am thus abused.

Sonnet XIX.

[When night returnes backe to his vgly mantion]

When night returnes backe to his vgly mantion,
& cleer-fac'd morning makes her bright vprise,
In sorrowes depth, I murmur out his cantion,
(salt teares distilling from my dewy eyes)
O thou deceitfull Somnus God of Dreames,
cease to afflict my ouer-pained spright
VVith vayne illusions, and idle Theames,
thy spells are false, thou canst not charme aright,
For when in bed I thinke t'imbrace my loue,
(inchaunted by thy magique so to thinke)
Vaine are my thoughts, tis empty ayre I proue,
that still I waile, till watching make me winke:
And when I winke I wish I nere might wake,
But sleeping carryed to the Stigian Lake.

Sonnet XX.

[The strongest Pyne that Queene Feronia hath]

The strongest Pyne that Queene Feronia hath,
growing within her woody Emperie,
Is soone throwne downe by Boreas windy wrath,
if one roote onely his supporter be,
The tallest Ship that cuts the angry Waue,
and plowes the Seas of Saturnes second sunne;
If but one Anchor for a iourney haue,
when that is lost gainst euery Rocke doth runne;
I am that Pyne (faire loue) that Ship am I,
and thou that Anchor art and roote to me,
If then thou faile, (oh faile not) I must die,
and pyne away in endlesse miserie:
But words preuaile not, nor can sighes deuise,
To mooue thy hart, if bent to tyrannize.

Sonnet XXI.

[As winters rage young plants vnkindly spilleth]

As winters rage young plants vnkindly spilleth,
as haile greene Corne, and lightning floures perish,
So mans decay, is loue, whose hart it killeth.
if in his soule hee carefully it cherrish;
O how alluringly hee offers grace,,
and breathes newe hope of lyfe into our thought,
VVith cheerefull, pleasant, (yet deceitfull) face
he creepes, & fawnes, till in his net w'are caught,
Then, when he sees vs Captiues by him led,
and sees vs prostrate humbly crauing helpe,
So feirce a Lyon Lybia neuer bred,
nor Adders sting, nor any Tigresse whelpe:
Oh blest be they that neuer felt his force,
Loue hath nor pittie, mercy, nor remorse.

Sonnet XXII.

[Looke as a Bird, through sweetnes of the call]

Looke as a Bird, through sweetnes of the call
doth cleane forget the fowlers guilefull trap;
Or one that gazing on the starres doth fall
in some deepe pit bewayling his mishap;
So wretched I, whilst with Lynceus eyes,
I greedily beheld her Angels face,
VVas straight intangled with such subtilties,
as euer since I liue in wofull case;
Her checkes were Roses, layd in christall glasse,
her breastes two aples of Hesperides,
Her voyce more sweete then famous Thamiras,
reuiuing death with dorique mellodies:
I harkning so to this attractiue call,
VVas caught, and euer since haue liu'd in thrall.

Sonnet XXIII.

[My lyues preseruer, hope of my harts blisse]

My lyues preseruer, hope of my harts blisse,
when shall I know the doome of life or death?
Hells fearefull torments easier are then this
soules agonie, wherein I now doe breath,
If thou would'st looke, this my teare-stayned face,
dreery, and wan, far diffring from it was,
VVould well reueale my most tormentfull case
and shewe thy faire, my griefe as in a glasse:
Looke as a Deere late wounded very sore,
among the Heard full heauely dooth feede,
So do I lyue: expecting euermore,
when as my wounded hart shold cease to bleede:
How patient then would I endure the smart,
Of pitchy-countnanc'd Deaths dead-doing dart.

Sonnet XXIIII.

[When leaden-harted sleepe had shut mine eyes]

When leaden-harted sleepe had shut mine eyes,
and close o'redrawn their windolets of light,
Whose watrynes the fire of griefe so dries,
that weep they could no longer, sleep they might,
Mee thought, I sunke downe to a poole of griefe,
and thē (me thought) such sinking much did please me
But when I downe was plung'd past all reliese,
with flood-fill'd mouth I call'd ye some wold ease me
Whereat (me thought) I saw my deerest loue,
(fearing my drowning) reach her hand to mine,
VVho pull'd so hard to get me vp aboue,
that with the pull sleepe did forsake mine eyne:
But when awakt I sawe t'was but a dreame,
I wisht t'had slept and perrisht in that streame,

Sonnet XXV.

[Rough stormes haue calmes, lopt boughes do grow againe]

Rough stormes haue calmes, lopt boughes do grow againe,
the naked winter is recloth'd by spring,
No yeare so due, but there doth fall some raine,
Nature is kind (saue me) to euery thing,
Onely my griefes do neuer end nor cease,
no ebbe doth followe my still-flowing teares,
My sighes, are stormes which neuer can appease
their furious blastes procur'd by endlesse cares,
Then sighes and sobs, tell Tantalus he's blest,
goe flye to Titius tell him hee hath pleasure,
So tell Ixion though his wheele ne're rest,
their paines are sports imposed with some measure
Bid them be patient, bid them looke on me,
And they shall see the Map of miserie.

Sonnet XXVI.

[The loue-hurt hart which Tyrant Cupid wounds]

The loue-hurt hart which Tyrant Cupid wounds,
proudly insulting o're his conquer'd pray,
Doth bleede a fresh where pleasure most abounds,
for mirth and mourning alwayes make a fray.
Looke as a Bird sore bruzed with a blowe,
(lately deuiding notes most sweetly singing)
To heare her fellowes how in tunes they flowe,
doth droope & pine, as though her knel were ringing,
The heauie-thoughted Prys'ner full of doubt,
dolefully sitting in a close-bar'd cage,
Is halfe contented, till hee looketh out,
he sees each free, then stormes hee in a rage;
The sight of pleasure trebleth euery payne,
As small Brooks swell and are inrag'd with rayne.

Sonnet XXVII.

[The heauens Herrald may not make compare]

The heauens Herrald may not make compare
of working words which so abound in thee,
Thy hony-dewed tongue exceedes his far,
in sweete discourse, and tunefull mellodie,
Th' amber-color'd tresse which Berenice
for her true-louing Ptholomaus vow'd,
VVithin Idaleas sacred Aphrodice,
is worth-lesse with thy lockes to be allow'd,
To thee my thoughts are consecrate (deere loue)
my words & phrases bound to please thine eares,
My lookes are such as any hart could moue,
I still sollicit thee with sighes and teares:
O let not hate eclypse thy beauties shine,
Then none would deeme thee earthly, but deuine.

Sonnet XXVIII

[Wearie with seruing where I nought could get]

Wearie with seruing where I nought could get,
I thought to crosse great Neptunes greatest Seas,
To lyue in exile; but my drift was let,
by cruell Fortune spightfull of such ease,
The Ship I had to passe in, was my minde,
greedie desire was topsaile of the same,
My teares were surges, sighes did serue for winde,
of all my Ship dispayre, was cheifest frame,
Sorrowe was Maister, care the cable rope,
griefe was the maine Mast, Loue the Captaine of it,
He that did rule the helme, was foolish hope,
but beautie was the Rocke that my ship split:
Which since hath made such shipwrack of my ioy,
That still I swim in th' Ocean of annoy.

Sonnet. XXIX.

[Cease eyes to cherrish with stil-flowing teares]

Cease eyes to cherrish with stil-flowing teares
the almost witherd rootes of dying griefe,
Dry vp your running Brooks, & dam your meares,
and let my body die for moist reliefe,
But death is deaffe, for well he knowes my paine,
my slakelesse payne hells horror doth exceede,
There is no hell so blacke as her disdaine
whence cares, sighes, sorrowes, and all griefes do breed,
In steede of sleep, (when day incloistred is
in dustie pryson of infernall Night)
With broad-wakt eyes I waile my miseries,
and if I winke, I feare some vgly sight;
Such fearefull dreames do haunt my troubled mind,
My Loue's the cause, cause shee is so vnkind.

Sonnet XXX.

[Hee that can count the candles of the skie]

Hee that can count the candles of the skie,
reckon the Sands whereon Pactolus flowes,
Or number nomberlesse small Attomie,
what strange, & hideous monsters Nilus showes,
What mishapt Beasts vast Affrica doth yield,
what rare-form'd fishes lyue in th' Ocean,
What colour'd flowers doe grow in Tempes field,
how many houres are since the world began,
Let him, none else, gyue iudgement of my griefe,
let him declare the beauties of my Loue,
And hee will say my paines passe all reliefe.
and hee will iudge her for a Saint aboue;
But as those things ther's no man can vnfolde,
So, nor her faire, nor my griefe may be tolde.

Sonnet XXXI.

[Faire Iuorie browe, the bord Loue banquets on]

Faire Iuorie browe, the bord Loue banquets on,
sweete lyps of Corrall hue, but silken softnes,
Faire Sunnes that shine when Phœbus eyes are gon,
sweet breath that breaths incomparable sweetnes
Faire cheekes of purest Roses red and white,
sweet tongue, contayning sweeter thing thē sweet,
O that my Muse could mount a loftie flight,
and were not all so forcelesse and vnmeete,
To blaze the beautie of thy seuerall shine,
and tell the sweetnes of thy sondry tast,
Able of none but of the Muses nine,
to be arightly honored and grac'd:
The first so faire, so bright, so purely precious,
The last so sweete, so balmy, so delicious.

Sonnet XXXII.

[The last so sweet, so balmy, so delicious]

The last so sweet, so balmy, so delicious,
lips, breath, & tongue, which I delight to drinke on
The first so faire, so bright, so purely precious,
Brow, eyes, & cheeks, which stil I ioy to think on.
But much more ioy to gaze, and aye to looke on,
those lilly rounds wc ceaseles hold their mooing,
From whence my prisoned eyes would nere be gon
which to such beauties are exceeding louing;
O, that I might but presse theyr dainty swelling,
and thence depart to which must now be hidden,
And which my crimson verse abstaines frō telling,
because by chast eares I am so forbidden;
There in the christall-paued vale of pleasure,
Lies locked vp a world of ritchest treasure.

Sonnet XXXIII.

[Thinking to close my ouer-watched eyes]

Thinking to close my ouer-watched eyes,
and stop the sluce of their vncessant flowing,
I layd me downe when each one gan to rise,
(new-risen Sol his flame-like coūt'nance shewing)
But griefe, though drowsie euer, yet neuer sleepes,
but still admits fresh entercourse of thought,
Duly the passage of each houre he keepes,
nor would he suffer me with sleepe be caught,
Some broken slumbers Morpheus had lent,
who greatly pittied my want of rest,
Whereat my hart a thousand thanks him sent,
and yow'd to serue him he was ready prest;
Let restlesse nights, daies, howres, doe their spight,
Ile loue her still, and loue for me shall fight.

Sonnet XXXIIII.

[Why should a Maydens hart be of that proofe]

Why should a Maydens hart be of that proofe,
as to resist the sharpe-point'd darte of loue?
My Mistres eye kills strongest man aloofe,
mee thinks he's weak that cannot quaile a Doue.
A louely Doue, so faire and so diuine,
able to make what Cynick so e're liueth,
Vpon his knees to beg of her bright eyne
one smiling looke, which life frō death reuiueth.
The frozen hart of cold Zenocrates,
had beene dissolued into hote desire,
Had Phryne cast such sun-beames from her eyes,
(such eyes are cause that my hart flames in fire.)
And yet with patience I must take my woe,
In that my deerest loue will haue it so.

Sonnet XXXV.

[End thys enchauntment (Loue) of my desires]

End thys enchauntment (Loue) of my desires,
let me no longer languish for thy loue,
Ioy not to see mee thus consume in fires,
but let my cruell paines thy hard hart moue,
And now at last, with pittifull regard,
eye me thy Louer, lorne for lack of thee,
VVhich dying, liues in hope of sweet reward,
which hate hath hetherto with-held from me,
Constant haue I been, still in fancie fast,
ordayn'd by heauens to dote vpon thy faire,
Nor will I e're, so long as life shall last,
say any's fairer, breathing vitall ayre;
But when the Ocean sands shall lye vnwet,
Then shal my soule to loue thee (Deere) forget.

Sonnet XXXVI.

[Long did I wish before I could attaine]

Long did I wish before I could attaine
the lookt for sight I so desir'd to see,
Too soone at last I saw what bred my baine,
and euer since hath sore tormented mee;
I sawe her selfe, whom had I neuer seene,
my wealth of blisse had not been turn'd to baile,
Greedy regard of her, my harts sole Queene,
hath chang'd my sommers sun, to winters haile.
How oft haue I, since that first fatall howre,
beheld her all-faire shape with begging eye,
Till shee (vnkind) hath kild me with a lowre,
and bad my humble-suing lookes, looke by.
O pitty mee (faire Loue) and highest fame
Shall blazed be in honour of thy name.

Sonnet XXXVII.

[Did I not loue her as a Louer ought]

Did I not loue her as a Louer ought,
with purest zeale, and faithfulnes of hart,
Then shee had cause to set my loue at nought,
and I had well deseru'd to feele this smart,
But holding her so deerely as I doe,
as a rare Iewell of most high esteeme,
Shee most vnkindly wounds and kills me, so
my nere-stain'd troth most causeles to misdeeme,
Neuer did one account of woman more,
then I of her, nor euer woman yet,
Respected lesse, or held in lesser store
her Louers vowes, then shee by mine doth set.
VVhat resteth then, but I dispaire and die,
That so my death may glut her ruthlesse eye.

Sonnet XXXVIII.

[Harken awhile (Diella) to a storie]

Harken awhile (Diella) to a storie,
that tells of beauty, loue, and great disdaine,
The last, causd by suspect; but shee was sorry
that tooke that cause, true loue so much to paine,
For when she knew his faith to be vnfained,
spotles, sincere, most true, and pure vnto her,
Shee ioy'd as if a kingdome shee had gained,
and lou'd him now as when he first did woo her.
I nere incurd suspition of my truth,
(fairest Diella) why wilt thou be cruell?
Impose some end to vndeserued ruth,
and learne by others how to quench hates fuell.
Reade all, my Deere, but chiefly marke the end,
And be to mee, as shee to him, a friend.

THE LOVE OF DOM Diego and Gyneura.

In Catheloygus, o'repeerd by Pyren Mountaines,
(a Prouince seated in the East of Spaine,
Famous for hunting sports & cleerest fountains)
a young heroyck gallant did remaine;
Hee, Signior Dom Diego had to name,
Who for his constant faith had got such fame.

Nature had tryde her deepest skill on him,
(for so the heauen-borne powers had her desired)
With such perfection framed shee each lim,
that at her owne worke shee herselfe admired,
Maiestick Ioue gaue him a Princely grace,
Apollo wit, and Venus gaue his face.

This loue-some youth, kinde Natures fairest child,
what for his beautious loue-alluring face,
And for he was so gracious and so milde,
was deem'd of all to be of heauenly race;
Men honord him, and Maydens gaue him loue,
To make him famous Men and Maydens stroue.

Hunting he lou'd, nor did he scorne to loue,
(a truer-louing hart was neuer knowne)
Which well his Mistres cruelly did proue,
whose causelesse rigor Fame abroad hath blowne.
But now lets tell, how hee on hunting went,
And in what sports such pleasant time he spent.

Soone as the sunne had left his watry bed,
(blushing for shame that he so long had slept)
Reuiuing those which duskie Night made dead,
when for his welcom Lambes on mountains lept.
Vp starts Diego, and with shrill-voyc'd horne,
Tells hounds & huntsmen of a cleere-fac'd morne.

Cloth'd all in Greene, (Syluanus lyuery)
he wore a low-crown'd hat of finest silke,
Whose brim turnd vp, was fastned with a Ruby,
and vnderneath, a Pearle as white as milke,
A sleeueles coate of Damaske, richly laced
With Indian pearle, as thicke as could be placed.

A glistring Cutlax pendent by his side,
(he much esteem'd ye beast-dismembring blade)
And halfe-leg'd Buskins curiously ytide
with loopes of burnisht gold full finely made,
Thus goes Diego, chiefest of his name,
With siluer-headed speare to finde some game.

Long while it was ere any sport began,
at last a Hart his big-growne hornes did shew,
VVhich (winding straight the huntsmen) gan to run
as fast as arrow from a Parthyan bow:
In whose pursute (by wil of powreful Fates)
Diego lost himselfe, and all his mates.

Left thus alone in midst of vnknowne place,
he inuocates the fauourable ayde
Of Ariadne, who with smalest lace,
freed Monster-killing Theseus, so dismaid,
In worser Laborinth did he now remaine,
For none saue trees or beasts, could heare him plain.

In these Meanders, stragling heere and there,
goes faire Diego, listning to each sound,
Musing twixt purple hope, and palish feare,
he thought to rest him (wearied) on the ground,
But see, he heares a farre some forced noyse,
A horne, a hound, or els some human voyce.

VVith that, Desire, which scornes least tedious let,
directed him vnto that very place,
Where loe to hunt the tymerous Hare, were met
as Knights, so Ladies, fittest for that chase:
Mongst which, there came a Grace of heauēly faire,
Her name Gyneura, with the golden hayre.

Her hayre of such corruscant glitterous shine,
as are the smallest streames of hottest sunne,
Like starres in frostie night, so looke her eyne,
within whose Arches Christall springs doe run,
Her cheekes faire show of purest Porphyrie,
Full curiously were typt with roseall die.

Her lips like ripened Cherries seem'd to be,
from out whose concaue Corrall-seeming Fount,
Came sweeter breath then muske of Araby,
whose teeth ye white of blanched pearle surmount
Her necke the Lillies of Lyguria
Did much exceed; Thus looked fayre Gyneura.

These Dryades Diego then bespake,
with sugred tearmes of mildest curtesie,
And crau'd to know which way he best might take
with shortest cut, to such a Signiory,
Whereat he nam'd himselfe; when presently
The Ladies knew him (as a Neyghbour by.)

Gyneuras Mother (cheese of all the rest)
(for that shee knew his birth and his discent)
Desir'd him home, he grants her such request,
and thanks the Fates that him such hap had lent,
For still on faire Gyneura were his eyes,
And shee reciprocally on his replyes.

These dumbe Embassadors, Loues chiefe combatants
tell (softly whispring in each others hart)
Her of humble seruice; him of acceptance;
his craued loue, hers wisht they nere might part,
Much talk they had wt tongues, more wt their eyes,
But (oh) most with their harts, where true loue lies.

Now were they come whereas the good old Lady
might boldly welcome her muited guest,
Where after little talke, (Hunters are hungry)
they all sat downe vnto a soone-made feast,
The Louers fed on glaunces of their eyes,
Tis heauenly food when both do simpathize.

At last, the Lady of the house espied
the intercourse of those bright Messengers,
Who inwardly reioycing, as fast plied
hers on her daughter, fittest Harbengers,
To bid her keepe the fairest and the best
Place in her hart, to entertaine this guest.

Word back againe was sent by her faire light,
how that was done already; and replied,
The Land-lord o're his Tennant hath such might,
that he to enter in is nere denied.
I, in a little corner of my hart
Doe liue, (quoth she) he hath the greatest part.

Diego wisht thys supper nere would end,
(and yet he long'd to be in priuate place,
To ruminate vpon his fairest friend,
and to recount the beauties of her face)
So wisht Gyneura, were neuer such two,
That lou'd so deerely as these Louers doe.

The gloomy Curtaines of the tongue-lesse night,
were drawne so close as day could not be seene,
Now leaden-thoughted Morpheus dyms each sight,
now, murder, rapes, and robberies begin:
Nature crau'd rest, but restlesse Loue would none,
Diego, Loues young prentice, thus gan mone.

Oh heauens, what new-sounde griefes possesse my mind,
what rare impassionated fits be these?
Cold-burning Feuers in my hart I find,
whose opposite effects worke mee no ease,
Then loue assailes the hart with hotest fight,
VVhen beauty makes her conqust at first sight.

I little dreamed of thys strange euent,
(this harts-inthraller, mindes-disturbing Loue,
VVhen with my Huntsmen to the woods I went,
Oh neere till now did I his greatnes proue,
Whose first impression in the Louers hart,
Till then nere tainted, bringeth deepest smart.

Thus lay Diego tossing in his bed,
bound to the will of all commaunding beauty,
Whom angry Cupid now in tryumph led,
expecting from his slaue all seruile duty,
Hee might haue freed his prysoner so dismaid,
For sighes and grones had double ransome paide.

In like extreames, (Loue loues extremity)
did faire Gyneura passe the long-thought night,
Shee raild against fell Cupids crueltie,
that so would tyrannize o're a Maydens spright.
There needes no blowes, quoth she, when foes doe yield,
Oh cease, take thou the honor of the field.

The valiant Greekes (faire Ilyons fatall Foes)
their tedious ten yeres siedge for Spartaes Queen
Nere thought so long; (yet long it was) as those
loue-scorcht enamored (so restles) now ween
This night to be; A night if spent in care,
Seemes longer then a thousand pleasant are.

Thus lay they sleeplesse, thoughtfull, euer thinking
on sluggish humor of expected Morne,
They thought that Louers eyes were neuer winking
nor sleepe they e're in whom Loues newly borne.
Hee vow'd, when day was come, to woo his deere,
Shee swore such wooing she would gladly heare.

At last, the guyder of the firie Coach,
drying his locks wet in Eurotas floud,
Gan resalute the world with bright approch,
angry he seem'd, for all his face was bloud:
Aurorites hast had made him looke so red,
For loath he was to leaue faire Thetis bed.

Scarce were his horses put in readines,
and he himselfe full mounted on his seate,
VVhen Dom Diego full of heauines,
abroade did walke, his night talke to repeate:
Some two howres spent, he in againe retires,
And sees his Mistres, whom he now admires.

Whereat inflam'd, (loue brookes no base delay,
whose fruite is danger, whose reward is paine)
With fine-fil'd termes he giues her the good day,
and blushing, she returnes it him againe.
Endimeons blush her beauty did eclypse,
His causd by Cynthiaes, hers Adonis lyps.

Boldly encourag'd by her milde aspect,
he told her that which Louers vse to tell,
How he did liue by her faire eyes reflect,
and how his hart in midst of hers did dwell:
Much eloquence he vsd, twas needles done,
To win that hart which was already won.

Ne're did the dungeon thiefe condemn'd to dye
with greater pleasure heare his pardon read,
Then did Gyneura heare his Oratorie,
(of force sufficient to reuiue the dead)
Shee needes must yield; for sure he had the Art,
VVith amorous heate to fixe Dianaes hart.

These Louers (thus in this both-pleasing parly)
were interrupted by Geneuraes Mother
VVho newly vp, (age seldome ryseth early)
gan straight salute her guest, so did he her,
Some termes of kindnes mutually past,
Shee friendly leades him in, to breake his fast.

VVhich done, (as all good manners did require)
hee thankt his Hostis for her curtesie,
And now at length went home for to retire,
where hee was looked for so earnestly,
The Lady crau'd if ere hee came that way,
To see her house, and there to make some stay.

Then heauily, and with a dying eye,
(ioylesse) hee takes his leaue of his faire Loue,
VVho for to fauour him, full graciously,
with louing count'nance gaue to him her Gloue.
Keepe this (quoth shee) till better fortune fall,
My Gloue, my Loue, my hand, my hart, and all.

At this large offer, bashfull modestie,
with pure Vermilion stain'd her all faire face,
So lookt Calystone at her great bellie,
when chast Ilythia spi'd her in such case;
Let Louers iudge how grieuous tis to part,
From two, twixt whom, there lyueth but one hart.

Nowe is hee gone, who after little trauell
attain'd his house (not pleasing thought desired)
At whose late absence each one much did marnell,
but (come) at his sad lookes they more admired,
Great Cupids power, such sadnes in him bred,
VVho (erst) all louing harts in tryumph led.

One month (consum'd in pensiuenes) expir'd;
to recreate and reuiue his tyred spright,
Hee now on hunting goes, which hee desir'd,
not for the (once well-pleasing) sports delight;
But for he might some fit occasion finde,
To see his Loue, on whom was all his minde.

Where being come (suppose his sports prou'd bad)
Gyneura gaue him welcome from her hart,
The Sea-tost Lord of Ithica ne're had,
after his twentie yeares turmoile and smart,
More ioyfull welcome by his constant wife
Then had Diego from his loue, his lyfe.

Two dayes he stay'd, whence he would ne're depart
but custome wil'd that he should now returne,
Yet though he went he left with her his hart,
which for their parting heauily gan mourne,
But far worse newes had it poore hart to greeue,
In that Gyneura would so soone beleeue.

For sooner was hee not departed thence
but straight there comes a Riuall of his Loue,
VVho vnder true fidellities pretence
wrought wondrous hard Diego to remoue,
Nor could at first his oaths or vowes preuaile,
To make Gyneuraes loue one whit to faile.

For yet they lyu'd fast bound in Fancies chaines,
stryuing to passe each other in pure loue,
But (as there's nothing that for aye remaines
without some change.) so do these Louers proue,
That hottest loue hath soon'st the cold'st disdaine,
And greatest pleasures, haue their greatest paine.

For now no longer could shee so perseuer,
shee turnes to deadly hate her former kindnes,
Which still had lasted; but that Nature euer
strikes into womens eyes such dim-sight blindnes,
And such obdurate hardnes in their harts,
They see, nor knowe, not truest loues desarts.

Gyneura this confirmes against her Louer,
whom now (all guiltlesse) she condemnes to die,
That in his deede or thought did nere offend her,
vnlesse by louing her so wondrous deerelie:
Such Loue, such hate, such lyking, such disdaine,
Was neuer knowne in one hart to remaine.

Thus twas; Diego had an enemie,
(immortall vertue euer lincked is,
With that pale leane-fac'd meager-hewed enuie)
who secretly (so falsely) tells his Mis.
How shee was mockt; Diego lou'd another,
And storm'd & rag'd what madnes so should moue her

To dote on him that else where sets his Loue,
hee makes you thinke (quoth he) what ere he list,
That this is true, you easily may proue
for still he weares her fauour on his fist,
A Hawke it is; which shee (so stands the Mart)
Giues him, he you faire words, but her his hart.

VVith this incenst, (that sex will soone beleeue)
soonest when enuies broode to them display it,
I'st true (quoth shee) for true loue doth he giue,
such smooth-fac'd flattry, doth he thus repay it?
Shee neuer scan'd, the truth of this her griefe,
Loue in such cases, is of quicke beliefe,

Her loue to him was neuer halfe so great,
(though once shee lou'd him) as is now her hate,
This Momus breath (like bellowes) to her heate,
did kindle firie coales of hote debate.
Hee plyes her; and exasperates his spight,
And sweares, and vowes, hee tells her but the right.

Shee (like a franticke Froe of Thessaly
madded with Bacchus brayne-distempring liquor)
Runs here, and there, exclayming furiously
with hideous, vncouth mind-affrighting terror.
Swearing reuenge on false Diegoes head,
VVhose lying lookes in her such madnes bred.

VVherewith shee inuocates great Nemesis,
and begs the power of her deitie,
Shee tells her case, to Iustice-doing Themis,
and shewes how shee is wronged mightily.
Shee leaues no power vnsought for, or vnpraide,
That vse to helpe distressed with their aide.

Wronged Diego (little this suspecting)
now thought it time to see his deerest faire,
And (other matters of import neglecting,
hee presently to her makes his repaire.
VVhere being come, such welcome he did finde,
As at the first did much disturbe his minde.

For faire Gyneura would not now be seene,
she sent him word she scorn'd his fauning flattrie,
And much did greeue, that shee so fond had beene,
to yield her hart to such deceitfull battrie:
Bid him (quoth shee) goe flatter where he list,
I like not I, that fauour on his fist.

Such hap it was, Diego then had brought
his Hawke; (the author of this fell debate)
Which well confirm'd her euer doubtfull thought,
that nowe shee was resolu'd on deadly hate,
Bid him (quoth she) depart hence from my sight,
His loath-some presence brings me irksome spight.

Twas hard; that he whose loue was neuer tainted
whose sincere faith was kept inuiolate,
Nay, in whose face all truest loue was painted,
should for his spotlesse truth be paid with hate,
Hee stone-astonied, like a Deare at gaze,
Admir'd these speeches in a wondrous maze.

At last hee crau'd this fauour he might haue,
that shee her selfe would heare what he could say,
So Neptunes Towne (quoth shee) such lycense gaue
to smooth-fac'd Synon (Ilions last decay)
So Syrens sing vntill they haue their will,
Some poore mistrustlesse Passenger to kill.

Shee would not heare him speake (oh cruell shee)
that causelesse this would kill him with disdaine,
Hee sweares he's guiltlesse, vowes innocencie,
& in such vowes, tears down his cheeks did raine,
Those cheeks which staine the blushing of ye morne
Gyneura now most hatefully doth scorne.

Tis strange that Maides should ere be so abused,
to credit each malicious-tongued slaue,
And to condemne a man (if once accused)
before or proofe, or tryall, hee may haue.
Too many such there be; wo's mee therefore,
Such light credulitie, I must deplore.

When sighes, salt tears, & vowes could do no good,
nor sighes, nor teares, nor vowes could pierce her hart,
In which, disdaine triumphant victor stood
holding in eyther hand a sable dart,
VVherewith he strikes true loue, & stainlesse truth,
Condemning them vnto eternall ruth.

Home goes Diego, with a cheerelesse face,
whose steps were led by leaden-footed griefe,
VVho neuer goes but with a dead-slowe pace,
vntill hee finde some ease, or some reliefe;
Twould melt a marble hart to see that man,
(Earst, fresh as a new-blowne Rose) so ashie wan.

VVhere being come, he straight for four daies space,
locks him in his chamber, and there did poure
Huge shewers of christall rayne adowne his face,
(for sure he lou'd her deerely at this howre)
All ouerwhelm'd in waues of sea-salt teares,
Some fatall shipwrack of his life be feares.

Wherewith he calls for paper, pen, and ynck,
and for his Hawke, which presently he kild,
Die thou (quoth he) so shall my loue nere thinke,
that for thy sake to any else I yield.
And plucking of her head, straight way hee writes,
VVho (sending it as token) thus indites.

Loe heere (thou cruell faire) that gracious fauour,
the Ensigne (as thou saist) of my vntruth,
Behold in what high-priz'd esteeme I haue her
that gaue me it, the cause of all my ruth:
Looke as this Hawke, faire Loue, so is my hart,
Mangled and torne, cause thou so cruell art.

I sweare to thee by all the rites of loue,
by heauens faire head, by earth, & black-fac'd hel,
I nere meant other loue but thine to proue,
nor in my hart that any else should dwell;
Let this suffize, my ioy, my deere, my chiefe,
My griefes are too too long, though letter briefe.

Twas time to ende, for floods gusht out amaine,
out came the springtide of his brinish teares,
VVhich whatsoere hee writ blot out againe
all blubred so to send it scarce hee dares:
And yet hee did; goe thou (quoth hee) vnto her,
And for thy maister, treate, sollicite, woo her.

And pray thee (if thy Fortune be so good
as to be viewd by sunshine of her eyes)
Bid her take heede in spilling guiltlesse blood,
tell her there's danger in such cruelties:
VVith this, hee gaue it to the messenger,
Who (making speed) in short time brought it her.

Shee, when shee heard from whom the Letter came,
returnes it backe againe, and straight replied,
My friend (quoth she) hadst thou not told his name
perhaps thy Letter, had not beene denied:
VVhereat shee paus'd; but yet ile see (quoth shee)
With what perswading termes, he flatters mee.

Twas quickly read; (God knowes it was but short)
griefe would not let the wryter tedious be,
Nor would it suffer him fit words to sort,
but pens it (chaos-like) confusedly.
Yet had it passion to haue turn'd hard stones
To liquid moisture, if they heard his moanes.

But cruell shee, more hard then any flint,
worse then a Tygresse of Hyrcania,
Would not be mou'd, nor could his lines take print
in her hard hart, so cruell was Gyneura.
Shee which once lou'd him deerly, (too too well)
Now hates him more then any tongue can tell.

Oh Nature, chiefest Mother of vs all,
why did you giue such apt-beleeuing harts
To women-kind, that thus poore men inthrall,
and will not dulie waie true loues desarts?
O had their harts been like vnto their face,
They sure had been of some celestiall race.

Shee pittiles, sends backe to Dom Diego,
and sayes, his words cannot inchant her hart,
Vlisses-like, shee will not heare Calypso,
nor lend her eares to such intising arte.
Bid him (quoth she) frō henceforth cease to write,
Tell him his Letters agrauate my spight.

Full heauie newes it was to stainelesse loue,
to him that had enshrin'd her in his thought,
And in his hart had honor'd her aboue
the world; to whō all else saue her seem'd nought.
Nay, vnto him, whose person, wit, and faire,
Might surely with the best make iust compare.

But (blinded as shee was) shee steemes him not,
hate and disdaine doe neuer brooke respect,
Shee did not knowe that beauties foulest blot
consisted in true-louing harts neglect.
No, she (more stubborne thē the North-east wind)
VVould not admit such knowledge in her mind.

Let those who guiltleslie haue felt disdaine,
whose faithfull loue hath beene repaid with hate,
Giue rightfull iudgement of Diegoes paine
who bought his fauours at the highest rate.
This newes such pleasure in his soule had bred,
As hath the thiefe that heares his iudgement read.

After some time, hee writes againe vnto her,
hee could not thinke shee would perseuer so,
But when hee sawe her aunswere like the other
hee then surceas'd to send her any moe.
But did resolue to seeke some vncouth place,
VVhere he might (vnfound out) bewaile his case.

Thinking indeede; shee by his absence might
at length intenerate her flintfull hart,
And metamorphize her conceiued spight
into true loue regardaunt of his smart;
Hee seekes all meanes (poore Louer) how to gaine
His rigorous Lady from such fell disdaine.

At last, hee calls to mind the Pyren Mountaines,
those far-fam'd, woody hills of wealthy Spaine,
Which for wild Beasts, & siluer visag'd Fountaines,
hath got the praise of all that there remaine:
Hether postes Dom Diego fraught with griefe,
Hoping those woods would yield him some reliefe.

VVhere, being come, all Pilgrim-like attir'd,
hee pryes about to see if hee could finde,
Some house-like Caue, for rest hee much desir'd,
his body now was wearie, as his minde.
O Gods (quoth hee) if youth finde such distresse,
VVhat hope haue I, of future happines.

VVith that hee sees a Rocke made like a Cabin
all tapistred with Natures mossie greene,
VVrought in a frizled guise, as it had been
made for Napæa, Mountaines chiefest Queene,
At mouth of which grew Cedars, Pines, & Firs,
And at the top grew Maple, Yough, and Poplers.

So, heere (quoth hee) ile rest my wearied bodie
in thee (delightfull place of Natures building)
VVill I erect a griefe-fram'd Monasterie,
where night & day my prayers ile ne're cease yielding,
To thee my deere; (no other Saint I haue)
Oh lend thine eares, to him that his hart gaue.

Two dayes were spent in this so pleasant seate,
(this stone-built Pallace of the King content)
Before Diego tasted any meate,
or once did drinke, more then his eyes had lent.
O irresisted force of purest Loue,
Whom paines, thirst, hunger, can no whit remoue.

Sometimes, when as he scans her crueltie,
& feeles his paines (like Hydreas head) increasing,
Hee wisht the Scithian Anthropophagie
did haunt these woods that liue by mans flesh eating;
Or else the Thracian Bessi, so renound,
For cruell murdring, whom in woods they found.

That so the Gordyon knot of his paine
indissoluble e're whiles he did lyue,
Might be vntide when as his hart were slaine,
when he (ô restfull time) shold cease to grieue;
But yet the Sisters kept his vitall breath,
They would not let him dye so base a death.

Some other times when as he waies her beautie,
her Venus-stayning face so wondrous faire,
Hee then doth thinke to waile tis but his dutie
sith caus'd by her that is without compaire,
And in this moode vnto high Ioue hee prayes,
And praying so, hee thus vnto him sayes.

Great Gouernour of (wheele-resembling) Heauen,
commaund thy vnder Princes to mayntaine,
Those heauēly parts which to my loue th'aue giuen,
ô let her ne're feele death, or deaths fell paine.
And first vpon thy Sister lay thy mace,
Bid her maintayne my Loues maiestick grace.

Inioyne the strange-borne mother-lesse Mynerua,
and her to whom the fomie Sea was Mother,
Still to vphold their giftes in my Gyneura:
let wit and beautie lyue vnited with her;
With sweete mouth'd Pytho I may not suspence,
Great Goddesse, still increase her eloquence.

Thou musicall Apollo gau'st her hand,
and thou her feete (great Sun-Gods deerest loue)
To such your rare-knowne gyfts all gracious stand;
and now at last this doe I craue great Ioue;
That when they dye (perhaps they dye aboue)
Thou wilt bequeath these gyfts vnto my Loue.

On euery neighbour Tree, on euery stone
(hee durst not far range from his secure Caue)
VVould he cut out the cause of all his moane,
and curiouslie with greatest skill ingraue:
There needed no Leontius, his Art,
Griefe carueth deepest, if it come from th' hart.

VVhen some stone would not impression take
hee straight compares it to his Mistris hart,
But stay, (quoth he) my working teares shall make
thee penetrable with the least-skil'd art.
Oh had my teares such force to pierce her mind,
These sorrowes I should loose, and new ioyes find.

Thou euer-memorable stone (quoth hee)
tell those whom fate or fortune heere shall lead,
How deerely I haue lou'd the cruel'st shee
that euer Nature or the world hath bred.
Tell them her hate, and her disdaine was causelesse,
Oh, leaue not out to tell how I was guiltlesse.

Whereat, the very stone would seeme to weepe,
whose wrinkled face wold be besmeard with tears
O man what ere thou be, thy sorrowes keepe
vnto thy selfe, quoth hee; ile heare no cares.
Tell them that care not, tell Gyneura of thee,
We stones are ruthfull, & thy plaints haue pierc'd mee.

VVith this, hee seekes a russet-coated Tree,
& straight disclothes him of his long-worne weed
And whilest hee thus disroabes him busilie,
hee felt his halfe-dead hart a fresh to bleed.
Greeuing that hee should vse such crueltie,
To turne him naked to his foe, windes furie.

But now vncas'd, hee gins to carue his cares,
his passions, his constant-lyuing Loue,
When (loe) there gushes out cleere sap like teares
which to get forth from pryson mainly stroue,
Since pitty dwells (quoth hee) in trees and stone,
Them will I loue; Gyneura, thou hast none.

Yet needs I must confesse thou once didst loue mee,
thy loue was hotter then Nimphæum hill,
But now whē time affords me, means to proue thee,
thy loue then Caucase is more cold and chill,
And in thy cold, like Aethiopyan hue,
Thou art not to be chang'd from false to true.

O looke (faire Loue) as in the springing Plant
one branch intwines and growes within another,
So growe my griefes; which makes my hart to pant
when thicke-fetcht sighes my vitall breath doth smother,
I spoild my cruelty am adiudg'd to death,
Thus all alone to yield my lyuing breath.

Thou hast the fayrest face that e're was seene,
but in thy breast (that Alablaster Rocke)
Thou hast a fouler hart; disdaine hath beene
accounted blacker then the Chimnies stocke.
O purifie thy soule my dearest Loue,
Dislodge thy hate, and thy disdaine remoue,

But all in vaine I speake vnto the wind,
then should they carry these my plaints vnto her,
Mee thinks thou still shouldst beare a gentle mind,
(deere-louing Zephire) pray, intreate, & woo her;
Tell her twere pittie I should dye alone;
Here in these woods wher non can heare me mone.

But tis no matter, shee is pittylesse
like the Scycilian stone that more tis beate
Doth waxe the harder; stones are not so ruthlesse,
which smallest drops doe pierce though nere so great;
If Seas of teares would weare into her hart,
I had ere this beene eased of my smart.

Thus in these speeches would Diego sit
bathing his siluer cheekes with trickling teares,
VVhich (often running downe) at last found fit
channells to send them to their standing meares,
VVho at his feete (before his feete there stood
A poole of teares) receau'd the smaller flood.

Ne're had the world a truer louing hart,
Abydos cease to speake of constant loue,
Por sure (thou Sygnior Dom Diego) art
the onely man that e're hates force did proue;
Thy changelesse loue hath close inrol'd thy name,
In steele-leau'd booke of euer-lyuing fame.

That wide-mouth'd time wc swallows good desarts
shall shut his iawes, & ne're deuoure thy name,
Thou shalt be crown'd with bayes by louing harts,
and dwell in Temple of eternall Fame;
There, is a sacred place reseru'd for thee,
There, thou shalt liue with perpetuitie.

So long liu'd poore Diego in this case
that at the length hee waxed somwhat bold,
To search the woods where hee might safely chase,
(necessitie, thy force cannot be told)
The fearefull Hare, the Connie, and the Kid,
Time made him knowe the places where they bid.

This young-year'd Hermit, one day mong the rest
as hee was busilie prouiding meate,
VVhich was with Natures cunning almost drest,
dri'd with the Sunne new readie to be eate,
Inrag'd vpon a suddaine throwes away
His hard-got foode; and thus began to say.

O cruell starres, Step-mothers of my good,
& you, you ruthlesse Fates what meane you thus,
So greedely to thirst for my harts blood,
why ioy you so in vnuniting vs?
Great powres infuse some pitty in her hart
That thus hath causelesse caus'd in me this smart.

I ne're was wont to vse such Cooketie,
to drudge & toile whē pesants take their pleasure,
My noble birth scornes base-borne slauerie,
this easelesse lyfe hath neither end nor measure;
Thou great Sosipolis looke vpon my state,
Be of these nere-hard griefes compassionate.

I feele my long-thought life begin to melt
as doth the snowe gainst midday heate of Sunne,
(Faire loue) thy rigour I haue too much felt,
oh, at the last with crueltie haue done,
If teares thy stonie hart could mollifie,
My brinish springs should floe eternallie.

Sweet loue, behold those pale cheekes washt in woe
that so my teares may as a mirror be,
Thine owne faire shaddowe liuely for to shoe,
and portraite forth thy Angel-hued beautie.
Narcissus-lyke then shouldst thou my face kisse,
More honny sweete, then Venus gaue Adonis.

Feare not Gyneura, faire Narcissus hap;
thy necke, thy breast, thy hand is Lilly-white,
They all are Lillies tane from Floraes lap;
ne're be thou chang'd vnlesse to loue from spite.
Oh that thou wer't but then transformed so,
My Sommers blisse, would change my winters woe.

If thou did'st knowe in what a loathsome place,
I spend my dayes sad and disconsolate,
VVhat foggie Stigian mists hang o're my face,
thou would'st exile this thy conceaued hate;
This Hemisphere is darke, for Sol him shroudes,
My sighes doe so conglomerate the cloudes.

I tolde thee, I, (thou cruell too seuere)
when hate first gan to rise how I was guiltlesse,
Thine eares were deaffe, yu would'st not harken ere thee,
thy hart was hardned, rockie, pittilesse.
Oh had mine eyes been blind whē first they view'd
Would God I had been tonglesse whē I sew'd thee.

But thou wast then as readie to receaue
as I to craue; ô great inconstancie,
O twas that fatall houre did so bereaue
my blisfull soule of all tranquillitie:
Thou then didst burne in loue, now froz'd in hate,
Yet pittie mee, sweete mercy ne're comes late.

Looke as the crazen tops of armelesse Trees
or latest down-fall of some aged building,
Doe tell thee of the North-windes boistrous furies,
and how that Eolus lately hath beene stirring;
So in my thin cheekt face thou well maist see,
The furious storme of thy black crueltie.

But thou inexorable art, ne're to be wone,
though Lyons, Bears, & Tigers haue been tam'd,
Thy wood-borne rigour neuer will be done,
which thinks for this thou euer shalt be fam'd;
True, so thou shalt, but fam'd in infamie,
Is worse then lyuing in obscuritie.

If thou didst knowe howe greeuous tis to me
to lyue in this vnhabited aboade,
Where none (but sorrowe) keepes me companie,
I know thou wouldst thy harts hate then vnload,
Oh, I did ne're deserue this miserie,
For to denie the truth were heresie.

I tell thee (Loue) when secret-tongued night
puts on her mistie sable-coloured vayle,
My wrangling woes, within them selues do fight,
they murder hope, which makes their Captaine wayle,
And wailing so, can neuer take his rest,
That keepes such vnrul'd Souldiers in his brest.

So when the cleere nights-faults-disclosing day
peepes forth her purple head, from out the East.
These woes (my Souldiers) crie out for their pay,
(and if deni'd) they stab mee, with vnrest;
My teares are pay, but all my teares are dri'de
Therefore I must their fatall blowes abide.

In these laments did Dom Diego liue
long time; till at the last by pourefull fate,
A wandring Huntsman ignorance did driue
vnto the place whence hee return'd but late;
Who viewing well the print of humaine steps
Directly followed them, and for ioy leaps.

At last hee came vnto Diegoes Caue
in which he sawe a sauadge man (hee thought)
Who much did looke like the Danubyan slaue,
such deep-worn surrows in his face were wrought,
Diego much abashed at this sight
Came running forth, him in his armes to plight.

For glad hee was (God knowes) to see a man,
who (wretch) in two yeres space did ne're see any
Such gladnes, ioy, such mirth, such triumph can
not be set downe, suppose them to be many.
But see, long had they not confer'd together,
When (happie time) each one did know the other.

VVith that Diego shewes him all his loue,
his pennance, her first loue, & now her hate,
But hee requested him hence to remoue,
and at his house the rest hee should dilate,
Which hee deni'd, onely hee now doth write
By this his friend, vnto his harts delight.

Deere Loue (quoth he) when shall I home returne,
whē will the coales of hate be quencht with loue,
VVhich now in raging flames my hart do burne,
oh, when wilt thou this thy disdaine remoue;
Aske of this bearer, be inquisitiue,
And hee will tell thee in what case I liue.

Inquire of her, whose Hawke hath caus'd this woe,
if for that fauour euer I did loue her,
And shee will curse mee that did vse her so,
and shee will tell thee how I lou'd another;
Twas thee Gyneura, twas thy fairest selfe,
I hel'd thee as a Pearle, her drossie pelfe.

Then, when thou hast found out the naked truth,
thinke of thy Diego, and his hard hap,
Let it procure in thee some mouing ruth,
that thus hast causelesse cast him from thy lap:
Fare-well my deere, I hope this shall suffize,
To ad a period to thy cruelties.

The Messenger to spurre forth her desires,
and hasten her vnto his well-lou'd friend,
Tells her, how hee lyes languishing in fires
of burning griefes, which neuer will haue end:
Bids her to flye to him with wings of zeale,
And thus Diegoes paines hee doth reueale.

Oh Adamantick-minded Mayde (quoth hee)
why linger you in this ambiguous thought,
Open thine eyes, no longer blinded bee,
those wounding lookes, thy Louer, deere hath bought.
Vnbolt thy harts strong gate of hardest steele,
O let him nowe the warmth of pittie feele.

Oh let him now the warmth of pittie feele,
that long hath knockt cold-staruen at thy dore;
Wanting loues foode hee here & there doth reele
lyke to a storme-tost Ship that's far from shore.
Feede him with loue that long hath fed on cares,
Be Anchor to his soule that swims in teares.

Gyneura, let him harbour in thy hart
rig and amend his trouble-beaten face,
O calme thy hate, whose winds haue rais'd his smart
see him not perrish in this wofull case.
And for in Sea-salt teares hee long hath liu'd,
Let him by thy fresh water be relieu'd.

Oh, shall I tell thee how I found him there,
his house wherein hee liu'd (if lyue hee did,
Or rather spend his time in dying feare)
was built within the ground, all darksom hid,
From Phœbus light, so vgly, hell-lyke Caue,
In all the world againe you cannot haue.

All made of rug'd hard-fauour'd stones,
whose churlish lookes afford the eye no pleasure,
In whose concauity winds breath'd horce grones,
to which sad musicke Sorrow daunc'd a measure.
O'regrowne it was with mighty shadefull Trees,
VVhere poore Diego Sun nor Moone nere sees.

To this black place repaired euery morne,
The fayre Oreades pitty-moned getles,
Bringing the poore Diego so forlorne.
Mosse to dry vp his teares, those liquid pearles:
Full loath they were to loose such christall springs,
Therfore this Spunge-like Moste each of the brings.

Here dry (say they) thou loue-forsaken man,
those glassy Conduits, which do neuer cease
On this soft-feeling weede; and if you can,
we all intreate, your griefes you would appease,
Else wilt thou make vs pine in griefe-full woe,
That nere knewe care, or loue, or friend, or foe.

Straight (like a shooting Commet in the ayre)
away depart these sorrow-peirced maydes,
Leauing Diego in a deepe dispaire,
who now, his fortune, now his fate vp-braides.
O heauens (quoth he) how happy are these trees,
That know not loue, nor feele his miseries.

Melts not thy hart (Gyneura) at his cares?
are not thy bright transparent eyes yet blinde
VVith monstrous diluge of o'reflowing teares?
remaines there yet disdaines within thy mind?
Disgorge thy hate, O hate him not that loues thee,
Maids are more milde thē men, yet pitty moues me.

Breake, breake in peeces that delicious chest,
whiter then snow on Hyperboreall hyll,
Chase out disdaine, depriue him of his rest,
murder and mangle him that rules thy will.
Be it nere sayd that faire Gyneuraes beauty,
Was ouer-peiz'd by causelesse cruelty.

Cruell to him that merrits curtesie,
loathed of thee that doth deserue all loue,
Basely reiected, scorn'd most churlishly,
that honors thee aboue the Saints aboue.
True loue is pricelesse, rare, and therefore deere,
VVe feast not royall Kings with homely cheere.

Too long it were to tell thee all his merrits,
for in delay consists his long-lookt death,
Post-hast of thine must now reuiue his spirits,
or shortly he will gaspe his latest breath;
Speake faire Gyneura, speake as I desire,
Or let thy vaine-breath'd speeches back retyre.

Looke, as a man late taken from a trance,
standes gazing heere and there in sencelesse wise,
Not able of himselfe his head t'aduance,
but standeth like a stone in death-like guise,
So lookt Gyneura, hanging downe her head,
Shaming that folly her so much had led.

Repentant sorrow would not let her speake,
the burning flames of griefe did dry her teares,
Yet at the last, words out of prison breake,
that long'd to vtter her harts inward cares:
And stealingly there glides with heauy pace
A Riuolet of Pearle along her face.

O cease (quoth she) to wound me any more,
with oft repeating of my cruelties,
Thou of thy teares (kind man) hast shed great store,
when I (vnkinder mayde) scarce wet mine eyes.
O let me now bewaile him once for all,
Twas none but I that causd his causelesse thrall.

Eternall Ioue, rayne showers of vengeance on me,
plague me for this blacke deed of wrongful hate,
Be blind mine eyes, they shall not looke vpon thee
Diego, till thou be compassionate:
And when thou doost forgiue what I haue done,
Then shall they shine like shortest-shaded sunne.

O slacke thy swift-pac'd gallop winged Tyme,
turne backe, and register this my disdaine;
Bid Poets sing my hate in ruthfull ryme,
and pen sad Iliads of Diegoes paine:
Let them be writ in plain-seene lines of glasse,
To shew how louing he, I, cruell was.

Hereat shee pausd, tell me sweet sir quoth shee,
how I might see my deere-embosom'd friend,
That now (if what is past may pardned be)
vnto his griefes I may impose an end;
Where-with they both agreed, that the next day,
They would eniourney them without more stay.

Long were they not, Desire still goes on Ice,
and nere can stay tell that he hath his wish,
Mens willing mindes each thing doth soone intice,
to hast to ye which they would faine accomplish.
But that they came (as hauing a good guide)
Vnto the place where they Diego spide.

Sacred Pymplæides endip my quill
within the holy waters of your spring,
Infuze into my braine some of your skill,
that ioyfully of these I now may sing:
Those Louers now twixt whom late dwelt annoy,
Swymming in seas of ouer-whelming ioy.

But, pardon mee you Dames of Helycon,
for thus inuoking your diuinest ayde,
Which was by me (vnworthy) call'd vpon,
at your rare knowledge I am much dismaide;
My barren-witted braines are all too base,
To be your sacred learnings resting place.

Thus, of themselues, in pleasures extasie,
these Louers now embrace them in theyr armes,
Speechlesse they are, eye counterfixt on eye,
like two that are coniur'd by magique charmes,
So close their armes were twin'd, so neer they came
As if both man and woman were one frame.

In th' end, (as doth a Current lately stayd,
rush mainly forth his long-imprisoned flood)
So brake out words; and thus Dyego sayd,
what my Gyneura? O my harts chiefe good,
Ist possible that thou thy selfe should'st daigne
In seeing me to take so wondrous paine.

Oh, speake not of my paine (my deerest loue)
all paine is pleasure that I take for thee,
Thou that so loyall and so true doost proue,
might scorne mee now, so credulous to be:
Then sweet Diego, let vs now returne,
And banish all things that might make vs mourne.

Twere infinite to tell of their great gladnes,
theyr amorous greetings, & their soules delight,
Diego now had exil'd griefe and sadnes,
rauisht with ioy whilst he enioyde her sight.
Let it suffise, they homeward now retire,
Which suddaine chance both men & maids admire.

Gyneura now delights but in his presence,
shee cannot once endure him from her sight,
His loue-ful face is now her soules sole essence,
and on his face shee dotes both day and night.
She nere did once disdaine him halfe so much,
As now she honors him, loues force is such.

Diego now wrapt in a world of pleasure,
imparadiz'd in hauing his desire,
Floting in Seas of ioy aboue all measure,
sought means to mittigate loues burning fire,
VVho walking with his loue alone one day,
Discharg'd his minde, and thus began to say.

O faire Gyneura, how long wil't be
ere safron-robed Hymen doe vnite vs?
My soule doth long that happy howre to see.
O let the angry Fates no longer spight vs,
Lingring delays will teare my greeued hart,
Let me no longer feele so painefull smart.

Gyneura, which desir'd it as her life,
tells him that paine shall shortly haue a cure,
Shortly quoth she, Ile be thy married wife,
ty'de in those chaynes which euer wil endure,
Be patient then, and thou shalt plainly see,
In working it, how forward I will be.

And so she was; no time dyd she mispend,
wherein shee gets not things in readines,
That might to Hymens rites full fitly tend,
or once conduce to such theyr happines,
All things prepar'd, these Louers now are chayned
In marriage bands, in which they long remained.

These, whilst they liu'd, did liue in all content,
contending who should loue each other most,
To wc pure loue, proude Fame her eares down lent,
and through the world, of it doth highly boast.
O happy he to whom loue comes at last,
That will restore what hate before did wast.
Then (deerest loue) Gyneuryze at the last,
And I shall soone forget what ere is past.

And now farewel, when I shal fare but ill,
flourish & ioy, whē I shal droope and languish,
All plentious good awaite vpon thy will,
whē extreame want shal bring my soule deaths anguish.

Forced by thee (thou mercy-wanting mayd)
must I abandon this my natiue soyle,
Hoping my sorrowes heate will be allayd
by absence, tyme, necessity or toyle.
So, nowe adiew; the winds call my depart.
Thy beauties excellence, my rudest quill
Shall neuer-more vnto the world impart,
so that it know thy hate, I haue my will;
And when thou hear'st that I for thee shall perrish,
Be sorrowfull. And henceforth true loue cherrish.

FINIS.

Poco senno basta a chi Fortuna suona.