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E. W. [i.e. Edward Wilkinson] His Thameseidos

Deuided into three Bookes, or Cantos

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HIS THAMESEIDOS.

Nunquam stigias ibit ad vmbras Inclita virtus.



Liber Primus.

Now gentle blastes, forerunners of the day,
Had summond hatefull Darknes packe away:
And Horror, Coachman vnto ougly night,
Made his blacke Steedes poast with all speed he might,
From foorth our Hemisphere, not daring bide
To looke vpon Aurorás gorgious pride.
And now from new spows'd wife, the fierie Sunne
Was risen, and from Ocean seas begunne,
To driue his golden Chariot, that he might
To all the world declare his glorious light.
When Thamesis, the fairest Queene on earth,
To solemnise her annuall day of birth,
Appareled in Robe of purest white,
All thicke of golden shimiring Spangles dight;
Which gainst the Sunne reflecting beames did cast,
As do the Starres, that in the heauens are plâst.
Her haire bound vp in knots like golden Wier,
And crownd with Garlands of sweete smelling Brier:
Vnto a Meddow by, his flowing streames
Did goe: where she from heat of Phœbus beames,
Vnder the coole shade of the spreading Trees,
Did meane to sport and sing sweete virolees.
With her faire Nimphes, each hauing in her hand,
To fill with precious flowers a little maund.
It was about the selfe same time of yeare,
When from the midst of heauen the Sunne doth beare
His scorching heate, and makes it swiftly role,
Vnto the Starres of the Antartique Pole.


Then when Pomona lades her slender bowes,
To serue Autumnus her diseased spowse.
Autumnus who in presse with naked feete,
From sweete ripe Grapes, make pleasant Wines to fleete.
In Iuorie hand faire Thames a Maund did hold,
Most rarely painted, and adornd with gold:
Which precious Iewell great Ocean did
To Doris giue, what time he did her wed:
Which precious rich Maund louely Doris after,
Did giue to Thames her derling and her daughter.
Vpon that Maund were many Histories
Depicted in such rare and curious wise,
That seemd as Art with Nature stroue t'excell
In the rare workmanshyp, for none could tell,
Saue Uulcane, who some sayd, did make the same,
How like to it, another Maund to frame.
There might y'haue scene a very stately Bed,
Made like a Boat; which certaine Tritons did
With their strong scalie backes vphold and stay,
All armde with Oares, all coullard like the Sea:
Bout whom, faire Sea-Nimphs sported chearfully,
Delighted with the Tritons company:
Where, on the poop, stood Neptune; who did hold
In his right hand his Trident tinde with gold.
And vnder his left arme a winding Shell,
Like those from whence (as ancient Poets tell)
The heades of Tiber and of Nilus ran,
Or ere their floodes vnto the salt Sea came.
Ioues braine-bred-daughter at the prow was placed,
Armed as then when she from heauen chaced
The hundred handed Titan to his graue,
Vpon the Fish that did Orion saue.
The Testerne like a Tile, all couered
With purple Veluet richly imbrodered,
With orient round Pearle was supported by;
Certaine faire Sea-Nimphes on whose head did lie,


The Arched Ribbes in very stately order,
As on so many columnes: on a border
Bout which was painted the imagerie
Of many Sea-gods, very curiously;
With Curtaines sutable thereto: whereon
The Romaine Lucrece liuelesse, pale, and wan,
Lay all besmeared in her owne goare blood,
Which with a Poyniard her owne hand had shod,
As sacrifice vnto her chastitie;
Which was bereau'd by Tarquine spightfully.
And there by cunning Woorkman curiously,
Was made a Land-shaft, in which one might see,
Steepe craggie Rockes, high Mountaines, shady Woodes,
Greene pleasing Fieldes, and crooked winding Floodes;
Where, in the middle of a pleasant Lawne,
There was a stately Fountaine sweetely drawne;
Whose water from a Harpies breast did fall,
Of Brasse, into a Cesterne paued all
With polisht Marblé, and with Porphire stone;
In which the Painter had his cunning showne,
In neately laying of his cullours, that
It seemd a true Fount, and no counterfect:
In which was chast Diana with her Nimphes,
All naked, bathing of their tender limbes;
On whom Acteon in the changed shape
Of fearefull Deare, full greedily did gape,
Turned thereto because he should not tell,
Had seene Diana naked in a Well:
By whom were made his wearie Hound that lapped
The water which from foorth the Fountaine drapped;
Whom fearing, he did seeke to flie: for as
His body, so his minde transformed was;
And on the hanger of a Hill hard by,
The Dogges pinching his hantches you might see;
A rewfull sight, yet could not be amended,
Since he Dianas grace had so offended.


And bout the Verges seemely to behold,
Trailes of Morisco workes were wrought in gold.
Thus louely Isis with his comely traine
Of beauteous Nimphes, into the Meddow came;
Where, on one side a shady Forrest grew;
To which Aurora oft her selfe withdrew,
To heare her Loues complaint, and where the Moone,
Oft stayde to looke vpon the Latmian Lowne:
In which did grow the tough and hardie Ashe,
The builder Oke; Holme fit for Carters lash,
Chast louely Daphne closed vnder rinde,
Incestuous Mirh, that weepeth still of kind:
Then peacefull Oliue, and the holsome Pine;
The sayling Firre, and eke the drunken Vine:
Vpon whose boughes, pearcht the lasciuious Sparrow,
The temperate Turtle, and the wight wingd Swallow,
Who flying singes, and singing studieth where,
With more art then with cost, her nest to reare:
The which, as patterne may be looked on
By rarest Archytect and cunningst man.
The little Owsle, and the mounting Larke;
The prettie Quaile, and charitable Storke,
Whose kindnesse to olde Parents children learne;
For oft to aged Parents you are more sterne.
High flying Cranes, by whose orderly flight,
Mars first was taught in rancked squadrons fight.
And Peacoks, which against the Sunne do reare
Their painted tayles with Argus eyes made faire.
With little Nightingales, who diuersly
With changed notes do make sweete melodie,
Feigning sometime a base, sometime a trebble,
Often a meane, then sweetely foorth do warble
A descant, which the mindes of standers by,
Doth rauish, hearing such sweete harmonie.
On th'other side, a secret Caue was seene,
Which for his fitnesse, often times hath beene


A refuge for those Nimphes, the which would shunne,
The scortching heate of Midday of the Sunne:
The entrance deckt with Mosse, pleasing the sight,
And alway fresh and greene for more delight,
To land-ward did there rise a Hill so high,
That wel-nie it did face the azurd skie:
From foote of which, did runne a purling Brooke
Through the Meade, with many a winding crooke:
Whose slyding streames the heauens calme seemd blew,
Whence store of pleasure to the eye-sight grew;
Yet clearer then was Aganippe Fount,
Or Acidalia, where the Charicts wount
To bath their Iuorie breastes and golden haire,
Ere they make readie Cithereas care.
About whose bankes did grow small tangled Trees,
Which made it seeme a heauen to gasers eyes:
Whose boughes the needie Wood-man neare had cut,
Nor hungrie Beast the tender shootes had brut.
And in the middle of that Meddow grew
A stately Beech, which his large armes foorth threw
To shadow them that vnder her should sport,
To which with Lea, Isis did resort
With Lea; on whose bankes Ardea was turned
Into a Bitterne, cause she Glaucus scorned.
Whilst Colne, and Kenet, with the faire Chrew went
To gather Flowers of most pleasing sent;
‘For there were Roses with Virmilion died,
‘Coole Dasies, and white Lillies; Summers pride:
‘The Marigold, that doth affect the Sunne,
‘Hiding her beautie when his light is gonne:
‘The Bee alluring Thime, the sweete Costmarie,
‘Gray Lauender, and strong senting Rosemarie,
And what else might be pleasing to the view,
Within this faire and princely Meddow grew:
But that which garnisht most this Paradise,
Were Isis louely looke, and sparkling eyes.


For marke how brighter Cinthia doth appeare
Aboue the Starres within her motiue Spheere:
So much more fairer did this louely Dame
Exceede those comely Nimphes, that which here came.
Not shee, whom Uenus gaue for the rich Ball,
The cause of tenne yeares warre, and Troyes fall:
Nor that faire Dame whom Ioue in shape of Swan,
Whylome did court, when he her loue first wan:
Nor yet Europa, whose loue made him take
A proude Bulles shape (tho then when he did make)
To looke like a faire vntamed Heyfer:
Had he turnd to a Bull, it had been better;
For Beautie might in any poynt compare
To Isis, tho they were exceeding faire.
You learned Muses, race of mighty Ioue,
That often sport within a sacred Groue,
In pleasant Tempe, and do dayly drinke,
Of those cleare waues that flow from Pinples brinke.
O you that guide their enterprises right,
Who take in hand to graue with rarest slight,
Vpon the Alter of Muemosine,
Within the Temple of Immortalitie,
Sweete pleasing beautie, which else subiect were,
In shade of lasting silence still to ere,
Guide me, that with your helpe I may begin
To frame Thams beautie; whose like neare hath bin:
And graunt these Rithmes, which slenderly are done,
May shew hereafter when as I am gone.
She was the fairst and most accomplisht Dame,
Excelling 'all whom Nature ere did frame.
Her heauenly Head the miracle of Nature,
Surpassing farre the fairest earthly creature:
With yelow Tramels all of beaten gold,
VVhich gasers thoughts in curled knots did hold;
Seemd ouerspred with flowers fresh and gay,
The mirtle Forests where the loues do play.


Like to a Table was her Front to see,
Of whitest Marble, seate of Maiestie:
VVell polished, as on a summers daie,
VVithouten waues vnited seemes the Sea:
VVhere Cupid had an Alter built to offer,
Their hartes that did refuse his lawes to suffer.
Her Eye-lids blacke, of Heben arches made,
VVere like the bow that Psiches husband had;
In which so liberall was Nature to her,
That euery one suspected (that did view her)
She onely 'made faire Isis to deceaue them:
And both of sight and iudgement to bereaue them.
‘Of different force were her two sparckling eyes,
‘Disdaine in th'one, grace in the other lyes:
Two eyes? O no, rather two heauenly Starres;
Th'one proffering Peace, the other threatning Warres:
In which Mars bastard Boy, his lodging tooke
Thence wounding them which at those starres did looke.
Her Nose did seeme (being somewhat highly raysed)
A little Hill betweene two Vallies placed.
Her round and tender Eare, white polished:
VVith Rubies hung her Cheekes embellished:
Cheekes which with liuely Cynab're ore spred.
Seemd like the Morning, new risse from her bed.
Not all those Flowers sprung from Princes gore,
Nor Amaranthus loues Flower made of Yore,
Like colour had to hers, which did amaze
Those carelesse eyes, that on her cheekes did gaze.
Full was her Mouth of thousand Odours sweete,
VVhere there in single ranckes did seemely meete
Bright orientall Pearles in stead of Teeth:
All which, embalmd the Heauens with their breath.
From thence sweete word and pleasing smiles did come,
All made to charme, and make beholders dome:
And which hard Rockes that standin Seas aloft,
Could by their mighty power, of hard make soft.


Round was her Chin, with in whose dimples lay
Enchaunting spels, tho seeming faire and gay.
Her Neck a stay, this little worlde to'pholde,
Of suorie was, or Alabaster mould,
Plast on two hils in whitnes that did passe.
Her snow-white Breasts that was Agenous lasse:
Betweene which hils, Loue often times did lurke,
When cruell stratagems he meant to worke.
Her little but long fingered Hand, more white
Then whitest Lillies that the Spring doth dight:
With enterchanged Vaines adorned was.
Her small feete such as some say Tethis has:
With which she nimbly could trip ore the Lawns,
And chace swift Row-bucks, and young wanton Fawns.
But for those parts the which her Garments hid,
What should we say? Surely dame Nature did
Keepe those thinges secret, least they should excell
All she had made in heauen, in earth, in hell
But O! what boots it to haue thinges surpasse,
Since fairest thinges do fade like Sommers grasse:
Alas nought in this worlde doth firmely stay,
But turneth still like Billowes of the Sea:
VVhich neare do cease to roule till with great rore,
Their rushing beat and breake against the shore.
And thou the cause of this vnstablenesse,
That dost delight in nought but ficklenesse;
VVhose customes neuer to abide in one,
But vseth headlong dayly throw vs downe,
VVhen we are rays'd by thy benignitie,
Vnto the top of all felicitie.
While thus with their faire Nimphs this louely Queene
VVas in this pleasant Meade, by them was seene
A Sheapheard, in the pride of all his dayes:
VVho whilst his tender Flocke on salts did grase,
Sate sencelesse, like an Image made of stone
Long while, at last fetching a deepe sad grone


Of inward griefe, the trewest signe of all;
They foorth his eyen perceiud salt teares to fall:
So after great Ioues hidious thunders past,
A cloude of raine, the heauens doth ouercast:
And when his teares were spent, with heauie cheare,
Sang to his Pipe this Song; which they did heare:
And hearing, could not choose but simpathise
His heauie griefe with water in their eyes.
O whither (quoth he) whither shall I flie,
To purchase ende vnto my miserie?
VVithin what Rocke, or to what desart place,
That neuer is enricht by Phœbus face?
Shall I vnfold in great and greeuous paine,
Which makes me wretcheder then any Swaine?
If there be any place where dayly cries
The Night-rau'n and the Owle, that by night flies,
Whereto no liuing wight doth ere resort:
From whence foule Winter neuer doth depart,
And where the Spring her verdure will not sowe,
A place of deadly horror and foule woe,
Where ougly sorrow dayly may present,
Her selfe before mine eyes me to torment:
That will I choose as best befitting mee,
In this distresse and great extremitie.
And you my little flocke, the small remaine
Of a farre greater, which once more my payne
Might with most neighbour flockes haue made compare
For number or for wooll, both fine and faire:
Then when for change of pasture sillie I,
In th'Aprill of mine age left Germanie;
Where I mongst Stadian bowers had nigh been slaine,
Cause I my Princesse honour did maintaine:
Which was, and is, more dearer vnto mee,
Then is the precious apple of mine eie:
And hoping for I wat not what to gaine,
To Englands pleasant soyle brought you againe.


Goe wander, goe; and take your libertie,
Grasing where is best pasture, while that I
Bewaile m'Icarian flight in mounting pride,
Plumed with waxe-forg'd-wings, which thought to ride
Aboue the cloudy welkin of the ayre,
To view the order their Latonas heire;
Holdeth in guiding of that glorious light,
That is the nourish of each liuing wight;
But was deceaud for comming neare the Sunne:
My winges did melt, and I did tumble downe.
O had I kept along the humble gill,
When first I did attempt to climbe the hill.
Or had I bounded mine ambitious minde,
Which carelesse thought to builde aboue the winde,
Sprung from remembraunce of those deedes were done
By my great Graundsirs, long-since dead and gone:
And a desire to register my'name,
Mought them within the sacred booke of fame:
Then might I now as I haue done before,
Pasture you still along this pleasant shore.
Or had not rather greete Chrusophilus,
Whose greedy humor passing couetous,
Thought all that went beside himselfe quite lost:
Mee too much wronged, and mee too much crost;
Whose soule with many filthy crimes made blacke,
Now fleetes about Auernus fearefull lake:
Then might I now as I haue done before,
Pasture you still along this pleasant shore.
For which, you Lordes of the infernall Bower,
Who ore deceassed soules haue mighty powet,
T'inflict, or to remit their punishment:
O doe you all at my request assent,
Ixion from his wheele a while to take;
And false Chrusophilus fast there to make.
Or if great Iunos wrath be not yet done,
Let Sisiphus t'hen leaue his rowling stone.


Or pull from Cawcasus Prometheus,
And let the Vulturs teare Chrusophilus.
Or if that may not be, Ioue angrie yet,
O then drag Tantalus foorth of his pit.
And let Chrusophilus vp to the chin,
Still, but in vaine, wade vp an'downe therein.
Let him at that faire seeming fruite, oft snatch;
Which thereby hanges, but neuer any catch.
A torment well beefitting such a wight,
Who liuing ore his owne, had neuer might;
And let his late made gentle ofspring, which
Are with stolne Plumes of others pride made rich:
Dispoyld thereof like to their Grandsirs fare,
Who vnto Ceres slauish seruants weare.
And for assenting to my wished boone,
Sad Hecatombes by mee shall be done,
And monthly I will offer a blacke Ramme,
As signe that I am thankfull for the same,
For had not he lately from mee bereft
Vniustly all my Sheepe, saue these few left;
To stanch his neuer satisfied lust
Of Golde, earths drosse, that doth consume with rust;
Then might I now, as I hane done before,
Pasture you still alongst this pleasant shore.
But since it cannot be as twas of late,
Since Fortune now hath giuen me the mate,
Dispoyld me quite of all my woonted mirth,
Clad me with woes, and throwne me to the earth:
And like a Tyrant triumphes ouer me,
That fore her prostrate on the ground doth lie;
Neare reckning whether it be iust and sound,
To trouble him, lies groueling on the ground.
O you the remnant of a greater flocke,
Goe get you gone, while to some desart rocke
I make repaire, where for my bed shall be
The cold dry ground, whereon I still will lie;


For morning mattens, mournings full of care:
For walkes, the wretched pathes of foule dispaire:
For meate, sad discontent: for drinke, salt teares:
For nightly sleepes, nought else but slumbring feares;
Till those last dueties I doe pay to Nature,
Which I am bound too, beeing a mortall creature:
What time my soule freed from this earthly gaile,
Where now it tyred lyes, shall to thee vaile:
Of faire Elisium fly, where voyde of paine,
Mongst blessed soules in ioy it shall remaine.
And thou sweete Pipe, the which wonts oft display
My wronges vnto these Woodes, these Rockes, and Sea,
And moouedst them at once to rew my lot,
When lyuing men seemd sencelesse, and would not;
But helde hard hartes, the which I do repent,
More harder farre, then hardest Adamant.
From that rude race, degenerating nought,
Which was of hard Stone, by Deiecalion wrought.
Here hang thou (therewith on a Beechen tree
He hung his Pipe) for now no more for thee,
Nor for thy sugred melodie I care,
(Quoth he) which done like one drownd in dispaire:
Thence heauie he departed, passing nought,
What Fortune, or foule Enuie could alot.
On whom, whilst ISIS lookt, perceiue she might
The Sea to swell, which did her much affright:
For she discerned on their toppes to ride
Great Neptune, poasting to the shore with speede.
Whose comming so amas'd the fearefull Thams,
(Who knew full well that he those scorching flames,
VVith her faire eyes within his breast had wrought,
VVould seeke to quench by farce, if he her caught)
As in a shadie Wood the hydeous stroke
Of ratling Thunder on the sodaine broke,
Doth scare the small Birdes, pearched on the spray:
And like how Fowle that by a Riuer play,


Spying a Falcon towring in the skie,
Straight leaue their sport, and for their safetie flie,
VVithouten order crying here and there:
So ISIS and her Nimphes, being in feare
Of hated Neptune, from thence straight gan fly,
Shreeking and crying very pitteously.
Aye me, What is this world but vanitie?
Subiect to change; full of vnconstancie:
Now is the Welkin glorious to the eie,
Clad in a Mantle of an asurd die.
And Phœbus now his faire light doth display,
When by and by a blacke Cloud foorth the Sea
Doth rise and darke the heauens were Iouiall,
Troubling both ayre and earth with waters fall.
Aye, now I see that mourning followes mirth,
That sorrow driueth pleasure from the earth;
That happinesse doth not long time remaine,
But ere it is at full begi'nes to waine:
That all in vaine man striues to keepe his state,
When dangerous stormes labour it to abate:
That vainely men doe boast of Fortunes fauours,
Since like a weather-cocke shee alwayes wauers,
Threatning them most, and bringing soonest vnder
Those, at whose fortunes most the world did wonder.
And strange, what ere within this world is done,
Ordayned was before this world begun:
So that great IOVE, who moderateth Heau'n
As soueraigne, and commaunds ore Gods and men:
At whose becke, earth and ayre, and all else moue,
Will not one enterprise the Fates to proue:
Whom neither prayers, nor ought else can resist,
Cause still th'are fixt, and still in one persist.
FINIS Lib. Prim.


Liber Secundus.

When cold staru'n Winter white with Ice and Snow
Declining from our Hemisphere doth goe:
And watrie Planets plunged deepe do yeelde,
Their mantions vnto Hyems pleasant childe.
When lucklesse Eccho learnes againe to sing,
The pastorall Songes which Sheapheard neare a Spring;
Or hard beside some murmering Brooke repeat,
Whilst little Lambkins bout the fieldes do bleat.
The amorous God that louely Tyro knew,
In likenesse of her Husband Enipeu,
Hated by Grecian Nimphes, him whilome loued,
And by the Thuscane, French, and Spanish glouted:
Remembring the rare beautie that was saide
T' adorne faire ISIS face, himselfe araide:
And falling foorth the straights of Gibraltare,
Where by Alcides plast to Coloms are,
His nimble teame of Dolphins he made post,
Along the Spanish and the Gallicke coast:
And when he came where Englands pride doth pay
Her dayly tribute to her Soueraigne Sea,
There he at last vnyoakt his wearie teeme,
And went to seeke the faire commended Queene:
Whom by her siluer slyding streames he found,
Amid her Maydens on th'enameld ground:
Whose face faire without art, did quickly daze
His eyes, that greedely on it did gaze,
As Phœbus doth our feeble sight,
When we dare looke on his daseling light;


For like the man that vnawares doth see
A blasing Comet in the sable skie,
Not hauing ere before seene such a sight,
Astond, long stares vpon the streaming light:
This great God long beheld her beauteous face;
Her beauteous face that Natures workes doth grace,
Till therewith rauisht, he perceiud his hart
Began to faint, and wonted courage part:
And felt each sense enchaunted by her beautie,
Forget his wonted office, and his duetie:
Which wanton Cupid saw as he did lie
Lurking vnder a sandie banke, to prie
On ISIS beautie, and being v'ery glad,
That then the long desired meane he had
T'auenge him for the enuious tale he tolde,
Vnto his mother then, when faine he would
Haue maried Psiches: straight he to the hart
Strake ISIS with a leaden headed dart:
Then with an other all of burnisht gold,
He warmd his hart, that had long time been cold;
And made him supplyant, craue remedie
For those hot flames that in his brest gan frie:
But craue in vaine; for when his suite she heard,
At first she waxed pale, being afeard:
But after, like the Rose in month of May,
Coullard with heate of Phœbus goulden ray
For shame her face did seeme, and to him sayd,
That she long since had vowd to die a Mayde:
Therefore in vaine he labourd, and in vaine
Should sue, if in the end he hop't to gaine
That guerdon, whereto they haue onely right,
Who vnder Loues lasciuious banner fight:
And therewith with her faire troope went her way,
Leauing the God behind, who did not stay
Long after her; but wroth that she was gon,
He studied long which way she might be won


Vnto his will, like to a gallant Souldier,
Who for the first repulse doth not giue ouer
The fortresse, which to gaine he goes about:
Who thereby more enrag'd, doth waxe more stoute;
And backe returnes, meaning in spight of foes,
To sacke the walles, and enter ere he goes.
But after he had long time beate his braine,
And could deuise no way how her to gaine,
He vowd the next time that he could come to her,
To vse his force, and not his words to woe her.
Within a Wood from ISIS streames a part,
There is a Caue made in despight of art,
So fitly is the growing Marble wrought,
To beautifie the entry of the Vault:
Through this a Riuer glides, whose sandes do show,
Like those that do in westerne Tagus grow:
Which left the earth some while, her selfe to drowne,
Within this darke, but pleasant mansion
Much like the Nubian Niger, which doth slide
In one place vnder earth of no man spide:
Hither proud Medwaie, one of ISIS traine,
In hunting hauing lost his company came;
Where, with her dayes toyle ouer-wearied,
Downe on a bancke she layde her weary head,
Meaning when she had slept awhile, to go
After her lost Companions: but ô,
We entend often one thing, when an other
Crosseth our purposes; the which, ô there
Was to be seene: for that place which she thought
Should worke her rest, her most disquiet wrought:
Because a Satire that before had spide her,
Taking the Vault when she thought none had eyed her,
Who did imagine she was Phœbus sister:
And with Endimion, who had often kist her,
Appoynted there to meete, whereby they might
Reape that same haruest, that doth Loue delight,


Did follow her: and had't been true, he then,
Meant to bewray it vnto Gods and mer:
All in reuenge of that disgrace was done,
To Marsuis, by the God that guides the Sunne.
But when the fearefull Satire came vnto
The entraunce of the Caue, he durst not go
Boldly in to't, afrayde least he espied,
His base leawd enterprise might be denied:
But villain-like stale softly to, and peeped
At first there in, where he a Nimph that sleeped
On the bare floare did see, whom straight he knew:
But nor for Phœbe, nor one of her crew.
And woondring at his hap, forgate anon
The Goddesse, and her deare Endimion:
And looke how that same Faun that doated on
Faire Iole, stoode like a senselesse stone,
Scard and amas'd, when softly he had crept,
It being darke where as Alcides slept,
Thinking that he faire Iole had bin,
Cause she was armd with Club and Lions skin.
So stood this Satire for a while astond,
Viewing the sleeping Nimph on the bare ground:
Yet that vnlookt-for change pleasd him so well,
That straight to toying on her lippes he fell,
Whereby he causd her from her sleepe awake;
Where she spying this Satire, straight gan quake,
And stood euen like, if that the like might bee:
Scard and amased at his companie,
Like Gadian Spaniards, when as they did see,
The valiant English by their chiualrie,
Cæsarean conquerours of their towne before,
They are suspected they had gaind their shore.
Or like to him whose fellowes sodainlie,
Stroke with a Dart sent from Ioues armorie.
But as the Birde besnarled in the net,
Which the false Fowler closely for her set,


Altho fast bound, yet flutters with her winges,
And to be gone, standes byting of the stringes:
So did she with her tender force withstand,
And strugled strongly both with foote and hand,
Thinking her selfe thereby againe to free
Away out of his brutish companie;
And with sharpe wordes reuilde him, to maintaine
Her honour spotlesse, but twas all in vaine:
For the young Satire fealt she was vnable,
Beeing so tender bônd, with him to graplet
Yet seeing her so hot, and out of quiet,
And very desirous for to put her by it,
So gently as he could he askt her why,
She so should hate the harmelesse Satirie?
Who answered straight, Their foule deformed shapes,
Their manners rude, vnfit for Maydens laps;
Did make her loath their vile base companie:
To which the Satire foorthwith did replie.
Sweete Nimph (quoth he) What? is it these that grow
Foorth of our forheads, that dislike you so?
(Poynting vnto his little hornes) If these?
That God which conquerd India, and did please
The Candian Queene, had such: or if too red
My face doth seeme? know Phœbus from the bed
Of his faire Loue arysing, redder farre
Doth looke; yet rode he oft in Climens Carre.
But happily, nor these our Hornes nor Face,
But these our hayrie Breastes, worke our disgrace:
Which I confesse are rough, but like his Breast
Where louely Uenus oft hath stolne her rest.
Nor should we ought the more ill shapen seeme,
Because Goate-like wee clouen footed beene,
Since Cupids mother is wed vnto him,
That hath a pool-foote, and halts of a lim.
And well I wot, wee Joue our shape did take
When to Antiope he loue did make:


Therefore I must conclude, if Nature had
This perfect shape of ours imperfect made,
Because in heauen and earth the like there are,
Mongst God and men to be excus'd it were:
This sayd, he threw her downe vpon the sand,
For, O her force too weake was to withstand:
And there in spight of her, he puld the flower,
The fragrant Rose, which neare before that hower;
(Tho ofted sought) by any was obtayned:
Hard was her hap that so vile slaue it gained.
That done, he shooke her off, as great men now,
Those that their turnes haue serued vse to do;
And thence departed, leauing her full woe,
And sorrowfull behind, for she did know,
She like the Rose, was cropt from natiue stem,
Whose vertues wholy lost, do nor younge men,
Nor louely Maydes delight, or ought content
Either for shew, or for their pleasing sent.
Yet went she home againe, but did not tell,
What hard misfortune was to her befell,
But proudly, as before, when she was free,
Shee presseth next her Mistris still to bee,
And iets it by her side; she neuer showde
By any action she awry had trode.
Nor did her fellowes ere her fault perceiue:
So studied she their eyesight to deceiue.
Yet after this, scarce Phœbe the ninth time
Had showne her selfe to this our northerne Clime,
When Isis almost fainting thorow heate,
And hunting in the chace, being in a sweate:
By chaunce a faire and pleasant Lawne espyed,
Through midst of which a shallow Brooke did slide:
And liking well the place, the vpper brimme,
Toucht with her foote, and finding coole and trimme
The water, willed all her Maydens there,
To bath themselues, which when Medwaie did heare,


She hung the head, afraid she should bewray,
That yet none knew, and onely sought delay,
Till iealous Thams whether she would or no,
Caused her Maydes her garments to vndo;
Where, with her naked body straight was showne,
Her shame; the which vnwilling to haue knowne,
She couerd with her hands: but all serud nought,
Twas knowne, and she confest where it was wrought:
Desiring pardon, cause twas forced on her,
And gainst her will, she suffred that dishonour.
But as Diana raged when she knew
Calisto, one of her faire retinew
By Ioue was forced so did ISIS now:
And straight commaunded her from thence to goe,
And tolde her for her leawd fact angered,
That whether to the Northerne Pole she fled,
Where windie Boreas doth dayly strow
The tops of Hyperborean hilles with Snow:
Or to the Tropicks, where Apollos torch
With extreame heate the sandy ground doth scortch:
Yet therefore should she not escape or flie
The iust reward of her hypocisie,
Which could so vilde a fact so long time hide,
From being by her, or her fellowes spide.
Which when poore Medwaie heard, discomfited;
Vnwitting what to doe; for feare halfe dead:
From thence she traueld by vncertaine wayes,
Like a great Shippe in the wide Ocean Seas;
Whose stately Maste being spent, and proud Sayles lost,
Is by each waue hither and thither tost:
And still bewailde her miserable state,
Her wretched life brought to so low a rate:
Life seeming long to folke in miserie,
But short to those liue in felicitie.
Yet comfortlesse as she was, like that wight,
Which on the high Alpes, hauing lost by night


His way, and knoweth not which hand to turne,
Sits on a Bancke, where while as he doth mourne
His happes vnto the sable mantled Skies,
Farre off some Sheapheards by a fier espies,
She farde; hearing the iángling of a Bell:
Following the which, she came vnto a Cell,
Amidd the shadow of faire spreading trees:
Through which did breath a coole refreshing brees,
Where the woods Burgeses did dayly sing
Sweete Laies vnto a pleasant purling Spring,
That thereby ranne: which pleasing melodie
Might well delight, with his rare harmonie
Each mortall creature; whereas she did see
An olde Man clad in russet, on his knee,
Deuoutly mumbling Mattens: which good sight,
At that time cheard her ouer dulled spright:
And till his mourning dueties he had ended,
At th'entrance of the Cell she him attended:
Which finisht, in she went; whom when he spied,
What wight she was much mus'd, and more her eied.
All in astoond, for sillie man he nere
Before that time, like strange sight had seene there.
If she some Goddesse were, he wist not well;
For of strange Goddesses he had heard tell,
That would leaue hautie heauen, and resort
To earthly Springes and Groues, to take their sport.
Or if some Nimph to neighbour-woods belonging,
He did not know; yet for he had a longing
To wit what mister wight she was, he did,
After he thither had her welcome bid,
Intreate her shew, by knowing, which quoth he,
You may be duely honoured by me?
To which, Medwaie reuiud by's courtesie,
Him mildly answered: Father take not me
For other then a wretched wight, opprest
With mightie griefe, who craue but roome to rest,


Till wearie limbes I haue refresht againe,
Wherewith from foorth her eyes great shewers of raine
Fell downe her blubbred cheekes, whereat th'old man
Rewing her sad distressed state, began
Entreat her tell the causes of her griefe.
Who (sighing) did her fortunes tell in briefe,
Both how the Satire in the Caue had vs'd her,
And how therefore her Mistris had refus'd her:
Which when the olde man heard, rewing her paine:
Alas faire daughter (quoth he) do not plaine,
For plaintes in these extreames do nothing vaile:
And tis not good in vaine to weepe and waile.
What woman, know there is no maladie
So hard to cure, but hath his remedie.
Ioue doth not alwayes foorth his thunder cast,
Nor still doth the hot raging Sommer last,
Still Boreas doth not with impetuous sway,
Raise mighty tempestes in the Ocean Sea.
Nor will these sorrowes dayly on thee tende,
Thy patience prowd away from thee they'll wende.
All humaine accidents about do wheele,
And in one place do neuer soiorne still,
No more then this great heau'n which dayly wee,
To turne with an vnwearie course do see:
Then euen as Heauen the which is Fortunes horse, sourse
About the earth doth keepe a lasting course:
So must we thinke those fortunes which do fall,
Bred by high heauen; yet not perpetuall.
Cold Winter past, the healthy Spring doth come,
Then cholericke Sommer, after sicke Autum:
Nor doth the influence of the heauens each hower,
Downe in one place still good or bad lucke power:
Therefore sad Nimph, since what is thee befall,
Thou canst by no art backe againe recall.
Comfort thy selfe, and hope that God will send
To these thy griefe, when he sees time, an end.


In the meane season, and till thou haue reard
Th'vnwildie borthen, and thy selfe hast cheard,
Stay heere with me. So downe he wild her sit,
And ease her wearie limbes: who glad of it,
Did rest her selfe straight on the dustie ground,
As glad so good an harbour she had found
In her great neede; as weather beaten Thrush,
In a great shower is of a sheltring bush.
Not farre from hence where this old man abode,
Downe in a bottome grew a shadie Wood:
By which a Riuer serpenteth so cleere,
That from the bottome each thing doth appeare
Most liuely to the curious gasers sight:
Hither at any time no Shepheard might
Driue his rich fleecie bleating flocke to grase,
For reuerence of those Nimphes that haunt the place.
So't fortun'd as sad Medwaie walkt about
One day to ease her griefe, she did finde out
This pleasant place, where by the Riuer side,
An entraunce through a stonie Rocke she spide:
To which she went, and did by steps descend,
Into a dark some Hall, through which she wend:
Vnto a fayre roome, lightened all by arte,
For vnder ground it was, and farre apart
From sight of heauen; the things that there made light,
Were precious Carbuncles, and Diamonds bright,
Reflecting Christalls, Rubies cherrie reds
Rich Emeraulds, and Opols discoloured:
About which roome, the antique Images
Were plast, of many worthy personages.
Fame saith, that Merline while he liu'd, did make
(Doating vpon a Lady of the lake)
This bowre, by his great skill at her request,
And therin plast the pictures of the best,
And noblest wights that should in Brittaine be,
After his death: There sad Medwaie did see,


On one side, the last man bore name of King,
In Brutes long raigning race, who thought to bring
From Armorick an Host of valiant men,
To foyle the Saxons, that had footing then
In Brittaine tane, had not him Visions stayde,
That wild to Rome his Iorney should be made.
There was that Rhodericke, the great surnamde,
Who for deuiding Wales, was highly famde:
And Howel Dha, who auncient lawes corrected,
And Officers to see right done, elected:
With Griffeth Conon, who victorious raigned
Full fiftie yeares; and when he peace had gayned
Vnto his Countrey, dyed: And Llewelline,
The braue last Prince of auncient Brittish line;
Whose life by them whom he did trust, betrayde;
Alterd the gouernment which they had swayde
Two thousand and foure hundred yeeres and od.
Aye me, that nought on earth hath his abode,
Heere permanent: aye me, that one mans fall,
Should be the ruine and decay of all
His house: aye me, I should haue cause to rew
His losse, whose memorie olde griefes renew.
On th' other side, in liuely Tables were
Pictures of Noble-men, and Ladyes faire:
Among all which, those seemd the liueliest,
That should liue vnder Faire ELIZA'S rest:
Who though a Woman, yet beyonde compare
Of all the Princes in the world that are:
For in her raigne Arachne busely,
Maketh her webs in rusty Armorie:
And mightie Staues by rotten Woormes are eaten,
For want of vse, that death had wont to threaten.
These when she had oreseene, she further went,
And to an other Roome thereby had ment
To goe, wherein the carued Pictures were,
Of those that Englands royall Crowne should weare:


And reached at the Key that thereby hung,
But could not moou't, so to the wall it clung:
For that same ontraunce, cause she was no Mayde,
(Like the faire Empresse who the Scepter swayde)
Was her denied, for so by hidden skill
Of Magicks art, and by infernall spell
Twas framde, that none might haue accesse therein,
That were defiled with Venerian sinne:
Onely she hapt through the Key-hole to spie
The fairest Picture that she ere did see.
The counterfeict of Englandes Soueraigne,
ELIZABETH, thrice happy in her raigne:
Vnder whose rule her Subiectes not desier
To change their state of womanish Empire:
Who whilst hatefull Erinnis hell doth leaue,
And both with fier and sword her neighbours greeue,
And in the murmure of a cruell storme,
Which threates the machine of the world to harme:
In peace and quiet doth her Realme maintaine;
Suppressing Will, and suffering Iustice raigne.
Thou most bright Sunne of this our Northern clime,
Liue thou for euer, or liue Nestors time,
To maintaine Artes, as hitherto th'ast done;
For wayle the Muses must when thou art gone:
And if it fortune that at any time,
(Luckely) this ragged and vnpolisht Rithme,
Into those faire hands fall, that holdes the bridle,
With which thou iustly rulest many people;
Behold it with a fauourable eie,
And thinke that none can praise thee worthelie.
After the Nimph perceiude she was denied
The entraunce of that roome, she would abide
No longer there, but left the enchaunted place,
And thought returne, and shew what she that space
Had seene, vnto her Hoast: but being wearie
Of that vnweeldie burthen she did carrie,


She sate her downe to rest, and by and by,
Was faine for helpe vnto Lucina cry:
Who hearing her, straite came, and with her goes
Some other Nimphes, to helpe her in her throwes:
Where they to get her, speaking words of ease,
Did from her wombe a little babe release.
Which by and by they laide in mothers lap,
Who with salt teares gan thus to waile her hap.
O cruell Mistris (quoth she) that exilde me,
When a rude Satire gainst my will beguilde me.
Making me wander like a vacabone,
Through darke woods and ore bleere hills vnknowne:
Or like a Ghost, whose freinds forgotten haue,
The sencelesse corps to burie in a graue.
Well hoped I for my long seruice don,
A better guerdon then this, to haue won:
But hopte in vayne; for woe! my cursed fate
I now do finde: but finde it all too late.
Who serueth thanklesse folke, shal be rewarded
Not as they hopte, nor as they haue deserued.
More had she saide, had she not bin by him
Euen then surpriz'd, that long to Thams had bin
A wearie suter, who then from his Sonne
Old Proteas, the skilfull God, did come.
Deepe in the Ocean, where yet neuer ground,
By longest fadome line could ere be found:
Vnder a hollow Rocke, ther is a vault,
By often beating of great Billowes wrought:
So that it seemes to be the noble acte,
Of some rare Mason, or skild Architect:
About which secret Caue, do daly lorke
Amid the Rocks, the monstrous cruell Orke:
The admirable Whale, which with great rore,
An other Sea, into the Sea doth poure:
All with the dead-sleepe charming cold Torpil,
That knowes he earries in his flancke, that wil


Decaue the traitrous Fisher of his pray:
And Scolopenders, who into the Sea
(Caught with sharpe hooks) their entrails foorth do cast:
And when the hookes are found, and daunger past,
Receiue them in againe; where as each one
His office holdes, as he before had done.
There dwels old Proteus, who by his great skill,
In the deepe secrets of blacke Magicke, will
Commauud Apollo staie his foaming horse,
Pluck downe heauens stars, & stop faire Cinthias course:
And can great Pluto in his Realme affright,
When ere him list, to shew his powrefull might.
Heere had old Neptune bin, in hope to gaine
Some helpe from him, but then his arte prou'd vaine:
His Circles, Characters, straunge words, all vsde
In order, number, time, his will refusde:
For sure that arte hath no power ore the soule,
Nor doth the world afoard an hearbe so foule:
Or potion made of poysoned Minerall,
That can the minde vnwilling, make loues thrall:
Which made Ioues Brother discontent, thence part,
Dispayring ere to ease his greiuous smart.
Since then, his hopes did faile, but as he went,
He heard a woman wofully lament,
With pitteous plaintes her greeuous martyrdome:
And going that way whence the plaintes did come,
Distressed Medwaie he did hap to spie,
Bewayling of her Babies myserie.
Whose sight did comfort him that hoped by her,
He might worke meanes to slake his tortring fier:
Which to effect and bring about the sooner,
Knowing her fortunes, thus he straight gan wooe her.
The much griefe (quoth he) I haue boren long,
Makes me the more to rue thy too much wrong,
Sad Nimph, all vndeserude (I wot) by thee:
Wherefore if thou'lt, deuise, and but tell me


How I may quench these fiers in my brest,
By fraude or force I passe not, I protest,
Of all those many Sea-gods waite on mee,
The choise and comliest Ile besto we on thee,
To be thy Husband, in thy Mistris place.
This said, straight Medwaie gan to waigh her case,
And sadly counts the wronges she had endured,
The great disgraces nere to be recured:
All by her Mistris, all without desart,
As she did iudge; yet iudg'd she not her part,
Traytrously sell her to her greatest foe,
Though by her sh'ad bin wronged farre much more:
But, but a small while that thought did possesse her,
So much did Neptunes promis'd husband presse her,
'T should seeme sh'ad not forgot the sport was made
Late in the Caue, how ere at last she sayde:
If to that place great God where sometime you,
With all the Sea-gods of your retinue,
Were by Ocean richly entertained,
When he proud Thetis to his first wife gained:
Do goe to morrow ere the fierie Sunne
The harnesse from his horses hath vndunne:
There you that cruell Lady straight shall finde,
That to vs both hath prooued too vnkinde:
Where hauing caught her, you may force her stench
Your bleeding woundes, and burning fiers quench.
But be you sure to catch her by some sleight,
Else will she scape you (for she's woondrous wight)
And serue you as Coronis hath tofore,
When she out ran you on Phocaion shore:
But poore soule shee, no sooner tolde this tale,
When Neptune being afeard the time would faile,
If he would longer stay, in hast did hie
To seeke his loue; which when Medwaie did see,
Repenting (but too late) that euer he,
Had her deceaued by his flatterie;


Euen as a wilde Bull darted by some one,
Begins to roare, and vp and downe to runne
Amid the presse, all fearelesse of his harme:
So Medwaie vext, cause he did not performe
His oath; and for her fault in conscience stunge,
Voyde of all patience, furilike flunge,
And oft for spight, her body threw to ground,
And all for spight her body to confound;
Till at the last, she with her selfe did take
A truce, and summoned sad wordes, to make
Her sorrowes knowne; with which the quiet skie
She vext, and sighing, thus at last gan crie.
O foolish, that I was foolish and madd,
To thinke that false forsworen Neptune had
Fayth in his wordes, or to imagine hee,
(Changing his nature) would be true to mee.
You hollow Caues, grim Plutoes auncient place,
You hellish furies, blacke nightes ougly race:
Thou triple headed Cerberus; and you
Infernall Floodes, O plundge mee deepe into
The bottome of that hot abisme, where lie
Tormented Ghostes in wretched miserie.
O thou the guyder of the golden light,
O thou faire Queene that cleerely shinst by night,
And you bright Starres that wander in the Skies,
If you haue power ouer our Destenies,
And that you be both of our good and ill,
The onely authours, then togither will
So many mischiefes on my head to light,
As can, or may, vpon a wretched wight
And thus as she lamented in despaire,
Her tatterd Garments shee in peeces taire:
And her two snow-white handes plaighted together,
Enrag'd she wrong, and thumped without measure.
Her tender Armes against the senselesse ground,
And her small Babe (strange tale) being vnbound,


And layde along vpon the soft greene gras;
No sooner toucht the earth, but straight wayes was
Ore-growne with earth; and from her tooes out went:
Small writhing rootes in vnquoth wonderment.
And her small body being lessoned,
Into a small long stalke was fashioned.
To Flagges her fingers changd: and last of all,
Her Head turnd to that plant we Cats-taille call.
Which wondrous change, when Medwaie saw, she mournd,
Cause to so vile a plane the Gods had turnd
Her guiltlesse Babie; till at last euen she
Did like to snow, that on the Alps doth lie
All Winter time; which when as westerne windes,
Together with the warmth of Sunne vnbindes,
The clodded lumpes to water straight doth change,
Making small Brookes, as downe hill it doth range:
For she consuming vnto watrie teares,
Was to a Riuet turnde; the which now beares
Th'vnfortunate Nimphes name, fall'n by the fault,
Which in the Gaue was by the Satire wrought.
Finis Lib. Secund.


Liber Tertius.

In all the world so great an enemie,
Either to man, or mans felicitie
There neuer was, if we do iudge aright,
And be not led away with blinded sight,
Then is our owne ore-bold seueritie:
For still thereby fit oportunitie,
Our foes haue for to ceaze on vs, before
We thinke that they are neare aboard the shore:
Witnesse faire Thames, who doubting nought at all,
Was nigh surprisd, and made God Neptuns thrall:
Who next day, when Hiperions sonne began
To driue his Chariot to the Ocean,
Ariued in the Meddow where as she
Was sporting in her Maydens companie:
Whom happilie faire Thamisis espied;
And spying, her faire louely cheekes (straight) died
With a Vermilion blush, abashed as
Naked Diana mongst her Maydens was:
Then when she in the cleere Gargaphian Spring,
By th'haples Nephew of the Thebane King
Vnwares was found; and from the place straight fled,
Leauing her Maydes behind all in the Mead:
Away she ran, as raging stormes doth flie,
Tumbling vp cloudes within the sable skie,
Nere looking backe, nor making any staie:
So feared she the soueraigne of the Sea.
Not halfe so fast distressed Florimel
Fled from the sight of that Hiena fell,


Which the dispightfull Witch after her sent,
To bring her backe, and her in peeces rent.
Nor halfe so fast from Phœbus Daphne fled,
As ISIS now, to saue her maydenhead:
Whereat the Lord of the vnconstant Sea
Did chase, yet loth that she should get away,
He gan with sugred speaches for to woe her,
But all was spent in vaine, that he sayd to her.
Thou that my soule holdes captiue in thine eyes,
(Quoth he) and still new tormentes dost deuise
To plague me, stay; and those hot fiers fee,
That burning in my breast, haue vexed mee
Ere since the shaftes which from thy sparkling starres
Did come and wounded me all vnawares:
And in thy golden haire my hart was tane,
Which now dispaires t'haue freedome ere againe:
But bootelesse were these Wordes; which seeing, hee
A loude vnto her, thus againe gan crie.
Stay cruell ISIS, harder farre then Flint,
And rougher then the Oake on Ida, flint
Thy hastie pace; and cause the Nimphos thou dost
Excell in fairenes, do not therefore bost;
But thinke, that as thy flood beares to my realme,
with an infatigable course his streame,
Returning nere againe vnto his head:
So th'howre the day, the day thy youth will lead,
Till on it death, or wrinckled age will sease:
Which come, thou'st rue the time which thou didst lease.
Loue therefore while as time is offerd thee,
And while thou mayst againe like loued bee:
For times do change and alter euery day,
And in those times we change, and doe decay:
Then present time's better, then time to come,
Since Golden, Siluer, Brasen age, is done;
And nought is left, but Irons cankred rust,
Which dayly turneth all from worse to worst.


Looke but vpon the faire sweete senting Rose,
Which cropped from the tree whereon he growes,
Straight loseth all the fairenesse that it had:
And know, thy beautie one day, so will fade.
Nor thinke thou canst the Gods in heauen excell,
Since thundring Ioue, loues fier could not quell.
Since bright Apollo spite of all his art,
With Cupids shafts, was wounded to the heart:
Since the faire Ciprian Queene, wanton Loues Mother,
By no means could her youngling fier smother:
And that Diana on Endimion doated,
Yet for a maide, and chast, is still reputed.
But rather thinke, though now from loue th'art free,
That loue will one day shew his power on thee.
Thou knowest, how late disdainefull Ardea,
Who Glaucus scornde; a God, and of the Sea:
Had her due merits on thy maidens strond.
Be warn'd by her, that God which can commund
The greatest Gods, will take reuenge on thee,
If thus thou dost persist in crueltee:
And if thou knowst me not, then stay and view
What one he is, that for thy loue doth sue.
I am not one that hauntes the craggie Rocks,
Yet Lord of Seas: nor tend I fleecie flocks,
From whom thou fleest, I thinke thou dost not know;
For if thou didst, thou wouldst not vse me so.
Were I a Saluadge, that mans flesh doth eate,
A foule blacke Moore, a Tartar, or a Gete:
Had I bin fosterd in Hircanian wood,
By wilde Beares milke, or cruell Tygers blood:
Then mightst thou scorne me iustly, and hold mee
Too too presumptuous, thus to follow thee:
Then mightst thou haue excuse, and not be blam'd,
To let me die, with beauties fire inflam'd.
But I in Seas keepe Court, my Temples stand
At Istmus, and within Calabria land,


In Italie the people do me honour,
And Ioue himselfe is knowne to be my brother.
With crooked Keele men learned first by mee,
To cut the Seas; and tame the Horse was free.
And though my Beard seeme white, my Carkas olde,
Prooue mee, and thou shalt finde mee hot and colde:
Prooue mee, my artires wants no strength: and though
That I seeme light, yet haue I pith enough.
Still pleasure shall yeelde force vnto my raines:
Prooue, I will not deceiue thee of thy paines,
For oft vnidelie I haue spent the night,
And when I rose, I haue bin fresh and light:
O runne no further then, but stay and proue,
Stay, and let's mutually ioy others loue.
Faine more he would haue spoke, but she afrayd,
Fled fast away, not heeding what he sayd:
And as she ranne, so meeting windes did blow,
That naked skinne aboue her knee did show,
And her gold haire now fallen loose and slacke,
At euery step did waue behinde her backe:
All which, farre more did set his hart a fier,
And farre more did encrease his hot desier,
So that he lustely did mende his pace,
Hopeing to catch her, whom he had in chace.
But as a Pirate hath bin long at Sea,
Whose Shippe foule and vnwasht, makes but small way,
Doth nerethelesse if that he spies a chace,
Vnto his courses straight his drablers lace,
And vp a trip hoyse topsailes, though in vaine,
For foule, the more they fayle, the lesse they gaine:
So was it twixt faire ISIS and her foe;
For she more lighter, did him faire outgoe.
Which when he saw, vexed to be so crost,
Even like a Tyger fell, the which hath lost
Vnwares her sucking Whelpes, doth rage and fling,
Amid the shrubbes and bushes that do spring,


On Ganges golden strond so tooke he on,
Stamping and stareing like a franticke man.
After staying his rage, and lookeing round about:
In broken speaches thus he did breake out.
Now Heauens, I see my Godhead is but small;
My power far lesse, my might iust nought at all:
But shall I leaue her tho? No, I will after:
And neuer lin, till these same hands haue caught her:
Yet she is young and wight, I olde and slowe:
And as I followe, she doth me outgoe.
Oh Cupid, why art thou mine enemie,
And to my griefe dost giue no remedie?
Why ad'st thou starres to heauen? leaues to green trees?
Why gathered waters, vnto growen Seas?
Why dost thou make me languish for that Lady,
That is more coy, then euer I knew anie?
Yet you mine eyes were cause first of this same,
For thorow you descended beauties flame:
That in mine entrailes burnes like Mongibell,
But were mine eyes in fault? no I wot well,
Had my weake minde ore-rulde my greedie eye,
Then from this torment had I now bin free.
Here did he stop againe, and as you see,
Some well skilde actor in a tragedie,
Whose purpose bent to execute his will,
Is countermaunded by some vnlookt ill,
Falles like a madde man in a raging vaine:
Euen so did he, and thus began againe.
My Haruest is in Grasse, I now do see,
And feare that it ripe Corne will neuer bee:
What tho; I am the selfe same God that hath
The Scepter of the Seas, who in my wrath
Can cause my raging Billowes to arise:
And armde with furie, buckld with the skies;
Then shal't be savd, that I shall suffer this,
And thus be crost by scornefull Thamisis?


No? Who will then acknowledge me a King?
Or on my Aulters offer any thing?
Tis onely force must purchase me, what Loue
And my long woeing, from her nere could moue:
And though it be not gotten by constraint;
But kinde and gentle meane (they say) must gaint.
Yet since I long haue gently woed her,
And all in vaine; by reuerend Stix I sweare,
Hencefoorth I will no longer woe, nor sew,
But ha'er in spight of all that she can do.
O which of all the sacred Muses now,
Shall I entreat to shew the base meanes how
False Neptune sought to gaine his wished pleasure:
But one's too few, helpe therefore all together;
For well I wot, you hearing her sad chaunce,
Did leaue your Springs bout which you wont to daunce,
And went to waile with her sad Maydens, which
Did nothing else but cry, nought else but scritch.
Now wearie Phœbus had vnharnised
His fierie steedes, and got him selfe to bed
To his faire Loue: and now the sable Night
Had causd sleepe ceaze vpon each mortall wight.
When Neptune causd his Coatch be brought to him,
The which two yoaked Delphins makes to skim
Ore the large furrowes of his spacious plaines,
In which he mounted, and with scalie raignes,
Gouernd their heades; seated in Iuorie,
Like a great Prince adornd with maiestie,
Bearing his three tinde Trident in his hand:
Whom Glaucus being accomp'ned with a band
Of Tritons, followes till vnto the ground
They came, where windes in Irons fast they found:
A cloudie Countrey, compast all with Hilles:
Where wrestling windes with blustrous blasting filles:
From darksome Caues sent out the foggie aire:
There Æolus within a stately Chaire


He found, holding his royall Mace in hand,
With which th'vnruly Windes he doth commaund,
Whom Neptune in this manner did intreate.
King Æolus, for thee my brother set
To rule the Windes according to thy pleasure,
To let them loose, or keepe them lockt together.
On farthest shores of Ocean Seas there lyes
A pleasant Iland, in triangle wise,
Which on the East the mouth of Rhyne doth face,
With a great Angle, and from thence apace
Withdrawes his shoring sides, butting proudlie
Fraunce with the one, with th'other Germanie:
Which Iland, doth in honour farre surpasse
Creat; which my brother Joues nurse why lome was.
Nor may with it Samos or Rhodes compare:
Ore which, once Iuno, or Loues Queene had care:
For there within that land, no lyuing wight
Hath want of needfull thing, or sweete delight:
Nor are they scarde with blastes of bloody teares,
Which braying Trumpet soundes in fearefull eares;
But of the murthring and life quelling blade,
For Husbandmen there hookt Sithes oft are made,
And Huswiues there do hiue the little Bee,
In rusty Caskes that by the walles do lie.
In this, there is a cruell, but faire Mayde,
Within whose haire, deceitfull Loue once made,
Slie subtile Nettes, by which all closely wrought,
My faynting senses troytrously he caught,
When least suspecting; rauisht at her sight,
They on her rarenesse fed with great delight:
And now sixe Moones with borrowed brothers light,
Sixe times haue shynd, and sixe times out of sight
Bin, since I her gan woe; but all in vaine,
For from my suite is sprung nought but disdaine:
Foule scornes, that mocke me and my deitie,
And frowning lookes, all voyde of pietie.


That Dame whose losse of life and chastetie,
Freede Rome from seruile yoake of tyrannie.
And that faire Isbell who would loose her head,
Rather then yeeld to Pagans lustfull bed,
Were not so coy, as is Doris proud daughter;
Witnes those meanes, whereby so oft I sought her:
Therefore th'vntamed windes, at my request,
Send out against her, that by them opprest,
She may without conditions yeelde to mee,
And I thereby recure my maladie.
Now Ile enlarge thy straighted Kingdomes bounds,
And giue to thee thy bordering neighbours grounds;
If yeelding, thou assentes to mee in this,
And helpe me get my wished Thamisis.
This he with faigned sighes so vttered,
That foolish Æolus thought all he sed
To be as true, and therefore pittying
The languishing estate of the olde King;
Without aduisement, straight made his replie.
Thrice Noble Neptune, whose dominions lie
Beyonde the borders of the ruddie Inde:
If I, or all my power, can bring to ende,
What you desire, in vs shall want no will:
And therewith did he strike thorow an hill
His Mace; whence straight a crew of hellish mates
In crowdes came thronging foorth the Iron gates;
Whose chiefe was Boreas, who with violent sway,
Doth chase the pestred Cloudes, and tosse the Sea:
Who in his rage doth turne vp knottie Oakes,
And beates the ground in hayle with sturdie stroakes;
Who trembling Ghostes doth vexe in Stigian lake;
And got in Caues, makes all the worlde to quake:
To whom turning, thus flattering Neptune sayd,
You in your furie, make the worlde afrayd:
Turmoyling earth and seas, I did not locke
You, fettred with these strong giues in this Rocke;


But frowning Ioue, whose will for law must stand.
Nor with like tirranny do I commaunde,
You know: for in my Realme you may be bould,
Not any one gainsaying what you would.
Therfore stout Boreas, if Orithia thou
Didst ere entirely loue, assist we now,
T'obtaine my loue: who farre vnlike to thine,
Both scornes my person, and what els is mine.
Scarce this was said, when sturdy Boreas gan
To flaske his winges: with wauing which euen than
He raisde a storme, and with his companie,
Madde, and enragde, with furie thence did flie:
And like fierce Dogges, long time in Irons chainde,
And long in darkesome kennelles haue remainde:
Once broken loose, runne rageing heere and there,
And all they meete, with rauening teeth do teare.
So these same villaines now at libertie,
And freed from fotters, do a madding flie.
Troubling each place with their impetuous sway,
And made the worlde seeme like a dismall day:
Vntill they came where louely Thames abode,
Whom they did chase; base villaines, rude, and wood:
Not waighing ought the wrong she offred had,
Nor yet the plaintes which her sad maydens made.
But like how oft in stormie raynie weather,
The waters falling twentie howers together,
The flouds made proud thereby aboue their boundes,
Do swell and ouerflow the meddow groundes.
With the great furie of their ouerflowing,
Driuing small Birds away from trees by growing:
Small Birds which on the spray had built their nestes,
And causing fishes, as vnwonted guestes
To harbour in their roome: so ISIS was
Forc'd by the woodnesse of fell Boreas:
To leaue her maydens pleasaunt companies,
Who fild the aire with hoarse vnwonted cryes


For her departure being ill opayd,
As Niobe, Amphions Queene is sayd,
When all her brood, the darlings of her ioy,
Latonas children did for spight destroy.
The hollow sandie bankes that wont rebound,
To their rare charming musicke; a sweete ground,
Sent now vnpleasant Ecchoes, like the notes
Came through the hollow of their feeble throates.
The light foote Fairies, and th'Oreades,
The Dryads, Hamadriads, and the Naiades,
Who oft delighted with their harmonie,
Did by their streames keepe ISIS companie:
Now hearing all theses Nimphes so heauely mourne,
Like heauely at once vnto them goane,
Nere Thetis so bewailde stout Peleus sonne,
When Coward Paris him to death had done.
Neuer Halcion with like griefe did mourne,
On sandie sea shore her deare spouse forlorne:
Nor was the sorrow my Phebe did make,
When death her dere-ling foorth her lap did take,
Though downe her cheekes did issue brackish seas,
To be compard vnto the sorrow, these
Sad dolefull Nimphes did make, when they did see
The faire haird Thames in such extremitie:
For like a Meade, dispoyled of his flowers;
A goodly Picture, robbed of her colours:
Like to the Heauen, if all his Starres were lost;
A goodly Shippe, wanting her Sayles and Mast:
So faire eyed ISIS wanting, seemde that place;
Who thereof was the flower, the beautie, and grace:
And when as wordes free passage had obtayned,
Of pressing griefes, their harmes they thus complayned.
O who (quoth they) will make whole Seas fall downe
Our blubbred cheekes, where we our selues may drowne?
Or what God, full of pittie shall we call,
Who t'end our woes, to Rockes will turne vs all?


From hence foorth, Pleasure be thou banished
Out of this wretched place, and in thy stead
Let ouglie sorrow dayly on vs tende.
And thou bright Sunne, would thou from hence wouldst wend,
And let thy light in mystie cloudes be pent,
For darknesse best befitteth discontent:
And take her with thee, who borrowes her light
From the cleere rayes of thy most glorious sight:
Take her, which oft amidd her Nimphes doth play
On Cinthus hill, and often times doth stay
Mongst Stigian Hagges: for Thames deare to you both,
Is forst to flie, for feare of Neptunes wroth.
And thou that wrapst all in forgetfulnesse,
And mortall folke dost ease of heauinesse,
Vnder thy blacke winges bringing diuers dreames
From foorth Cimerian fieldes, now hide the beames
Proroceeding from the Starres in th'Hemisphere,
And make a generall darknesse euery where.
And Phylomell, since thou art woont to mone,
Remembring still the great disgrace was done
By thy false brother, helpe vs to lament:
Or if thy mourning notes are fully spent,
Then giue a quiet eare to that we say,
For we huge wronges in sad tunes will display.
And you ô Trees, in whom there life doth rest,
Shew foorth some signe, as pittying our vnrest.
Let little Birdes be silent on your spray:
And on your boughs, let Rauens croope by day.
But you that late your branches downe did bend,
From Thames faire face, the Sun-beames to defend,
Now in despight, to ground your branches throwe,
Since Thames is gone, to shew you waile her woe.
You Lillies white, whom whiter handes did gather:
And you faire blooming Roses, Natures treasure,
Vpon your selues sadde sable Weedes bestow,
Since Thames is gone, to shew you wayle her woe.


She was the Rose, the Lillie of the day,
Whose leaues b'vntimely stormes, do fall away:
Oh eccho all this place, with mourning fill,
And marke the dolefull accents of our ill.
Sound foorth our griefe, and let them neuer end,
Vntill the Heauens our fortunes do amend.
Oh let our iust complayninges loude and shrill,
Thorow these winding waters wander still,
Whereby those seas that on our shores do flow,
Our heauie griefe to forraigne lands may show:
And on their banckes let neuer trees more grow,
Since Thams is gone, as signe you waile her woe.
And thou great Joue, if any care thou hast
Of earth, or earthly thinges, O do thou haste,
And saue her from false Neptunes treacherie,
Who honoured still thy sacred deitie:
Saue who the corners of thine Aulters dud
Purple continually with luke warme bloud.
But ô! it seemes great Joue, thou hast no care
Of vs, nor of this worlde; but it doth ere,
At all aduenture: for if that you had
Regard of humane thinges, or if you made
Esteeme of vs, your owne hands workemanshyp;
Then would you of sad ISIS take some keepe,
And her protect from Neptune, who amaine
Doth seeke her spotlesse chastetie to staine:
And he should not, that hath so laboured
T'abuse chast Maydens, scape vnpunished:
Wherefore since Heauen, and all therein are deafe,
And hearing not, can not amende our griefe,
Let vs be gone, and cease hence foorth to plaine,
For all our plaintes are spent, but all in vaine.
This said, they all arose, all yll apayde,
And thence departed, in dispaire of ayde
From heauen, or elie where; vexing still the skies,
With their hot scalding sighes and greeuous cries:


But nor the cryes, nor sighes, did ISIS good,
Whom Boreas foule vnciuill Groome starke wood,
Did with a crew of wicked mates pursue,
As she some Felon were, or wight vntrue:
Who poore soule, seeing how she was oreborne,
Like pittious plaintes did make, and so did mourne,
As with her husband Epimethius daughter
Did then when they could see nothing but water;
When onely they of all mankind bereft,
Amid the billowes of the Seas were left.
Then when themselues were solely left in woe,
And saw no land, nor any fellowes moe,
And fearing least at last she might be caught,
By that foule Leatcher, who this wrong first wrought:
With hands lift vp, she thus besought great Ioue.
Heare thou great Father of the Gods aboue,
By whom all's made, maintained, and disposde,
And from whom nought on earth is vndisclosde:
Who full of equitie, dost all things right,
And wicked folke beholds with eies of spight.
Heare and behold the miserable state,
Of me thy Daughter, dolfull, desolate.
These teares, ay me, that from mine eies do fall,
For succour at thy helping hands do call.
Oh let not then my foe obtaine his will,
On me poore Maide: nor let the windes fulfill
The treason that he hath deuisd gainst mee:
But force them all retire, and bacward flee,
To their abode; O pittie me I pray,
Least following ages doe hereafter say,
In vaine thou holdes the thunder in thy hand,
Not helping those that helpe of thee demaunde.
So prayed Thamisis, and straight great Ioue,
Shaking his head, thrice thundred from aboue,
In signe he heard, and called Mercurie,
Charging him straight vnto Æolia hie,


And tell the King when first I did accorde,
Ouer the wrastling windes, to make him Lord:
I gaue in chardg he no man should opresse,
But seeke still offerd iniuries to redresse.
But since with Neptune, he confederate is,
To wrong my tender darling Thamesis:
If he his windes do not in hast reclaime,
By Sytx tell him, to his eternall shame,
Like how with Titans rude rebellious race,
I whilome dealt: so will I him disgrace.
Yet for this wrong, which is alreadie done,
At what time, twixt the place where sets the Sunne,
And the right Northen Pole, there doth appeare,
By Cassiopeia, seated in her Chaire:
Within that milkie way, made by my Queene,
A blasing Commet, like fier flameing sheene;
Which shall be ere Apollo eight times leads
Aboute the Zodiake his trampling steades:
Two princely Beastes shall come from Thames coole streame
Which shall more dammadge do vndo his Realme,
Then did that mightie Boore Diana sent,
The Fielde of Calidon to spill or rent:
All (quoth he) in reuenge he durst attempt,
To wrong her, whom from wrong I haue exempt.
This saide, faire Maias Sonne the subtil God,
Takeing in hast his dead sleepe charming rod,
And winged shooes, did leaue the christall skie,
Ioues princely Pallace, where continually
Th'erraticke starres in their sweete harmonie,
Do make rare soundes of heauenly melodie:
And downe from thence, vnto this lower worlde,
Swifter then thunder-bolt, himselfe he hurlde,
And sought King Æolus: to whom he straight,
The purport of his coming, did dilate.
Haue any ere in May a Garden seene,
With diuers flowers enameld fresh and greene,


And it reuewes when Phœbus is declinde
Vnto the Southerne pole, the same doth finde
Oregrowne with wilde weedes, and with stinking grasse;
Now would haue sayd, in Æolus there was
Like change, hearing great Ioues Embassadour:
For neuer was he troubled so before,
Saue when his Nephewes bawling did detect,
His Childrens lewd crime, and incestious fact:
For which, the guiltlesse Babe as punishment,
He cast to Dogs, which it in peecemeale rent;
And to desilde Canace, sent a sworde;
With which her owne selfe to the heart she gor'de:
For he much feared Ioue his Soueraigne,
Knowing he might depose him from his Raigne
And regall power: therefore t'amend his fault,
And please the angrie God, Postillians straight
He after Boreas sent, and did commaunde
To bring them backe, and cease their sute in hand:
Who neuer stayed, till they the windes had founde,
And brought them backe, and them againe had bounde
In their base bondes of during Iron, wrought
Long since in Ætna by the Cyclops: taught
Their art by Lymping Uulcan, who was plast there
To be Ioues workeman, and the cheife Forge-maister;
Wherby distressed Thamesis was freed,
From those that had her ouerthrow decree'd
And backe return'd to her sad Nimphs, whom she
Did finde, her losse bewailing heauily:
Who when they saw her first, far'd like to her
Hath but one Sonne; that for a Souldier
Prest, in his Princes seruice forth is gone,
To keepe his Countrie from inuasion;
Whom fearing to be drowned in the deepe,
Or by hard steele sent t'euerlasting sleepe,
Shee doth bewaile as dead, and will not be
When he returnes, from death and daunger free,


Perswaded tis her Sonne, but some vaine sight,
That would with idle shadowes her delight,
Till her cold feares are past; for all of them
thinking her wholly lost, thought they had seene
Her shadow, not her selfe, till she spake to them:
What time assured, they all receiued her,
As an Hungarian Father doth his heire,
And only Sonne: which hath a longsome time,
Alongst hated Turkes, in hellish prison line:
Their sighes to songs, their teares now almost spent,
They turn'd to laughter, and to merriment;
And thankt the motor of the whirling Spheres,
That had not them forgot drowned in teares.
But stay my Muse, the Skie is faire and cleare,
The Seas are calme, no winde doth whistle heere;
Heere let vs anchour then, for heere we may
Ride safe, to morrow being Holiday.