University of Virginia Library

Fooles Paradise, or Reason Bewitcht.

Simple as are the Elements unmixt,
Stedfast as is the earth, whose footing's fixt
Untainted like the silver suite of Swan,
Alone like truth, well ordered like a man.
Like these in each of these was I, untill
Upon a time, Reason fell foule with Will,
Who back't with sence, that it might battaile move
Implor'd the ayde of all commanding Love,
Love by his mother taught, doth soone comply
To be an Actor in this treachery.
The battell's wag'd, and Reason flyes the field,
While Sence and Will to Love the Conquest yeeld.
I now, loves subject, am inforc't to doe
What ever his designes commands mee too.
See, see (quoth hee) do you behold that maid,
Whose equall doth not breathe; and there he staid
To draw fresh aire. So quicke was hee to give
Mee notice that I must no longer live
In my owne selfe, but her whom when I spy'd,
Mee thought I had beene happy to have dy'd.
Since I at once saw severally in one
What joyn'd together made perfection.
This was Florella that bright shining starre,
Who might have caused a second Trojan warre.
Were there a second Paris, for her face,
The world might strive, but then there sate a grace
So chast, that might expell each spurious thought.
Such as foule Hellen to her Paris brought.
There I might read in my Florella's lookes,
(Such are indeed beauties most perfect bookes)
Loves pleasant Lecture, where I might espie
How Cupid once sought entrance at her eye,
Whom she repell'd, like snow the chast and cold
Could not admit a Sympathy to hold,
With his hot flames, but melting quite put out
That ardent fire which warm'd her round about.
Cupid denied of this did backward start,
And ran for hast to hide him in her heart,
Where he renewed fresh flames, and by delay,
So scorcht his wings he could not fly away.
Thus force perforce in her my conquer'd breast
Is the poore Inne of such a God-borne guest,
Whom while I harbor, it is hard to tell
Whether his presence be a Heaven or Hell.
Such pleasurable paine, such painfull pleasure
Sometimes below, and sometimes above measure.
Mars on a time forsooke his Venus bed,
Protesting he no longer would be led
To those embraces, which like Circes charmes,
Made him forget th' Heroicke use of Armes.
Venus heard this, whiles halfe in anger shee
Did thrust her darling Cupid off her knee.
Downe falls the youngster, and in falling so
Broke all his Arrows, quiver and his bow,
His grandame Nature pittying the mischance,
Wipes the wagges eyes, told him she would advance
Him to his former office: for a dart
That should transfixe the most obdurate heart.
She would create an eye, and for a bow
She'd make a brow, whose art inclining so,
Should shoote such shafts, that diety should yeeld
Themselves glad prisoners in the maiden field,
When streight she made Florella, such a maid,
Who being nam'd, need there ought else be said?
'Tis not long since that I heard Lovers whine
At those deepe wounds, which from their Mistris eyne
They bleeding had receiv'd, cause they could winne
No mercy from them, whilst I thought some pinne
Had scratch't their tender hands, till I too late
Grew sensible they were unfortunate
In their lost loves, 'cause when Florella fround,
Shee like a Commet strucke mee to the ground,
Till shee was pleas'd to cleare her glorious eyes,
Which summon'd mee from death to life to rise.
Wherefore you speedy Merchants doe you runne
Beyond the bounds of the all-bounding Sunne,
To seeke for Rubies, Pearle, and Ivory,
Adventuring hazard both of Land and skie,
When my Florella can afford all this
Without your search in the tumultuous Seas.
Rubies and Pearle, her lips and teeth, her skinne,
Like hollow Ivory, lockes those gems within,
For which you fondly up and downe doe rome,
When you may better find this wealth at home,
What would the Northerne Climate hold too deare
To purchase my Florella to live there?
That where the niggard sure denies to shine,
They might receive more lustre from her eyne.
But that I know she loves Religion best,
She had long since, seene India the West,
But least those Pagans, who adore the rise
Of the bright Sunne, should doate upon her eyes,
She was resolv'd to stay: woe had I bin
Had she gone thither to encrease their sinne.
East India nothing holds that's worth her view,
There's nothing there, that shee can take for new;
Their aire-perfuming spices, pretious gum,
Their fragrant odors, pleasant, Cinamum.
All these and sweeter farre, shee breathes whose smell
Doth all things but it selfe, highly excell:
Once to my friend I did these lines rehearse,
Who streight way smil'd, and did applaud my verse.
But Ah! I feare 'twas my Florella's name
That brib'd his tongue, so to belie my fame.
Once, and but once, I chanc't to have the sight
Of my Florella, who makes darkenesse light:
When leaden Morpheus did her sence surprize,
In the lock't casket of her closed eyes,
Faine would I steale a kisse, but as I strove,
Those scarlet

Her lips.

Judges of my sleeping love
Did swell against my pride, and angry red,
Charg'd mee stand backe from her forbidden bed.
While they her precious breath did seeme to smother,
Each privately did steale a touch from th' other,
I envious at their new begotten blisse
Was bold on her soft lips to print a kisse.
At which she wak't: And have you ever seene
How faire Aurora, heavens illustrious Queene.
Shakes off her sable Robe, and with a grace
Smiles in the front of a faire morning face.
Just so my love, as if night had beene noone,
Discards the element of the uselesse moone:
And from her glorious tapers sent a fire,
To light the darkest thoughts to quicke desire.
While thus from forth her rosall gate she sent,
Breath form'd in words, the marrow of content.
And have you Sir, at such a tempting time
Betrayd my honour, to this welcome crime,
By stealing pleasure from me, twas thy Love
I know, that did thee to this trespasse move,
For I have prov'd thy faith, which since I finde
The trusty Inmate of a loyall minde,
Of force I must accept it; and in part
Of recompence, afford thee all my heart.
Thus having ceaz'd my prize; I told her, sweet,
As by no fouler name we ere may greete,
So what is mine I tender, all, my selfe,
The poorest part of thy unvalued wealth.
Thou hast won much in this, thy mercy showne,
That thus at last thou dost receive thy owne
Least they who after me like fate shall prove,
Should say: See what it is to be in Love.