University of Virginia Library

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.