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The Author in this Passion taketh but occasion to open his estate in loue; the miserable accidentes whereof are sufficiently described hereafter in the copious varietie of his deuises: & whereas in this Sonnet he seemeth one while to despaire, and yet by & by after to haue some hope of good successe, the contrarietie ought not to offend, if the nature & true qualitie of a loue passion bee well considered. And where he mentioneth that once hee scorned loue, hee alludeth to a peece of worke, whiche he wrote long since, De Remedio Amoris, which he hath lately perfected, to the good likinge of many that haue seene and perused it, though not fully to his owne fancy, which causeth him as yet to kepe it backe from the printe.

In this passion the Author describeth in how pitious a case the hart of a louer is, being (as he fayneth heere) seperated from his owne body, & remoued into a darksome and solitarie wildernes of woes. The cōueyance of his inuention is plaine & pleasant enough of it selfe, and therefore needeth the lesse annotation before it.

This passion is all framed in manner of a dialogue, wherein the Author talketh with his owne heart, beeing nowe through the commandement and force of loue separated from his bodie miraculouslie, and against nature, to follow his mistres, in hope, by long attendance vpon her, to purchase in the end her loue and fauour, and by that meanes to make him selfe all one with her owne hearte.

The chiefe grounde and matter of this Sonnet standeth vppon the rehearsall of such thinges as by reporte of the Poets, are dedicated vnto Venus, whereof the Authour sometime wrote these three Latine verses.

And Forcatulus the French Poet wrote vppon the same particulars, but more at large, he beginneth thus,

All this Passion (two verses only excepted) is wholly translated out of Petrarch, where he writeth,

Heerein certaine contrarieties, whiche are incident to him that loueth extreemelye, are liuely expressed by a Metaphore. And it may be noted, that the Author in his first halfe verse of this translation varieth from that sense, which Chawcer vseth in translating the selfe same: which he doth vpon no other warrant then his owne simple priuate opinion, which yet he will not greatly stand vpon.

This passion of loue is liuely expressed by the Authour, in that he lauishlie praiseth the person and beautifull ornamentes of his loue, one after an other as they lie in order. He partly imitateth here in Aeneas Siluius, who setteth downe the like in describing Lucretia the loue of Euryalus; & partly he followeth Ariosto cant. 7. where he describeth Alcina: & partly borroweth from some others where they describe the famous Helen of Greece: you may therefore, if you please aptlie call this sonnet as a Scholler of good iudgement hath already Christened it αινη παρασιτικη.

Actæon for espying Diana as shee bathed her naked, was transformed into a Hart, and sone after torne in pieces by his owne houndes, as Ouid describeth at large lib. 3. Metamorph. And Silius Italicus libr. 12. de bello Punico glaunceth at it in this manner.

The Author alluding in al this Passion vnto the fault of Actæon, and to the hurte, which hee susteined, setteth downe his owne amorous infelicitie; as Ouid did after his banishmente, when in an other sense hee applied this fiction vnto himselfe, being exiled (as it should seeme) for hauing at vnawares taken Cæsar in some great fault: for thus hee writeth.

Clytia (as Perottus witnesseth) was a glorious Nimph, and thereof had her name: for κλεος in greeke signifieth glorie: and therfore she aspired to be the loue of Sol him selfe, who præferring Leucothoe before her, she was in short space ouergonne with suche extremitie of care, that by compassion of the Gods shee was transformed into a Marigolde; which is significantlie called Heliotropium, because euen nowe after change of forme shee still obserueth the rising and going downe of hir beloued the sunne, as Ouid mentioneth,

And by this it maie easilie bee ghessed, whie in this passion the Authour compareth him selfe with the Marigold, and his loue vnto the Sunne.

The Authour hath made two or three other passions vpon this matter that is heere conteined, alluding to the losse of his sight and life since the time he first beheald her face, whose loue hath thus bewitched him. But heere hee mentioneth, the blindnesse of Tyresias to proceed of an other cause, then he doth in those his other Sonnettes, And heerein he leaneth not to the opinion of the greater sorte of Poets, but vnto some fewe, after whom Polytian hath written also, as followeth;

In this sonnet is couertly set forth, how pleasaunt a passiō the Author one day enioyed, whē by chance he ouerharde his mistris, whilst she was singinge priuately by her selfe: And sone after into howe sorrowfull a dumpe, or sounden extasie he fell, when vpon the first sight of him she abruptlie finished her song and melodie.

The subiect of this passion is all one with that, which is next before it: but that the Authour somwhat more highly here extolleth his ladies excellencie, both for the singularitie of her voyce, & her wonderfull arte in vse & moderation of the same. But moreouer, in this sōnet, the Authour relateth how after the hearing of his mistris sing, his affection towardes her by that meanes was more vehemētly kindled, then it had bin at any time before.

The Authour descanteth on forwarde vpon the late effect, which the song of his Mistres hath wrought in him, by augmenting the heate of his former loue. And in this passion after he hath set downe some miraculous good effectes of Musicke, hee falleth into question with him selfe, what should be the cause, why the sweete melodie of his Mistres shoulde so much hurte him, contrarie to the kinde and nature of musicall harmonie.

The Authour still pursuing his inuention vpon the song of his Mistres, in the last staffe of this sonnet he falleth into this fiction: that whilest he greedelie laied open his eares to the hearing of his Ladies voice, as one more then halfe in a doubt, that Apollo him selfe had beene at hand, Loue espiyng a time of aduantage, transformed him selfe into the substance of aier, and so deceitfullie entered into him with his owne great goodwill and desire, and nowe by mayne force still holdeth his possession.

Still hee followeth on with further deuise vppon the late Melodie of his Mistres: & in this sonnet doth namelie preferre her before Musicke her selfe, and all the three Graces; affirming, if either he, or els Apollo bee ordeined a iudge to giue sentence of their desertes on either side, that then his Ladie can not faile to beare both pricke and prize awaie.

In this passion the Authour vpon the late sweete song of his Mistres, maketh her his birde; & therwithall partlie describeth her worthines, & partlie his owne estate. The one parte he sheweth, by the coulour of her feathers, by her statelie minde, and by that souereintie which she hath ouer him: the other, by description of his delight in her companie, and her strangenes, & drawing backe from a dewe acceptance of his seruice.

The Author not yet hauing forgotten the songe of his mistres, maketh her in this passion a seconde Phoenix, though not of Arabia, and yet no lesse acceptable to Apollo, then is that bird of Arabia. And the cheife causes why Sol shoulde fauour hir, he accounteth to be these two, hir excellent beawtie, and hir skill in musike, of which two qualities Sol is well knowen to be an especiall cheife patrone, and sometimes the only author or giuer of the same.

This sonnet is perfectly patheticall, and consisteth in two principall pointes: wherof the first cōteyneth an accusatiō of Loue for his hurtfull effects & vsuall tyrannie; the second part is a sudden recantation or excuse of the Authors euill words, by castinge the same vpon the necke of his beloued, as being the onely cause of his late frenzy and blaspheamous rage so lauishly powred forth in fowle speaches.

The Author in this passion reproueth the vsuall description of loue, which olde Poetes haue so long time embraced: and proueth by probabilities, that he neither is a childe (as they say) nor blinde, nor winged like a birde, nor armed archer like with bowe & arrowes, neither frantike, nor wise, nor yet vncloathed, nor (to conclude) anie God at all. And yet whē he hath said al he can to this end, he cryeth out vpon the secret nature and qualitie of Loue, as being that, whereunto he can by no meanes attaine, although he haue spent a long & tedious course of time in his seruice.

In this passion the Authour being ioyfull for a kisse, which he had receiued of his Loue, compareth the same vnto that kisse, which sometime Uenus bestowed vpō Aesculapius, for hauing taken a Bramble out of her foote, which pricked her through the hidden spitefull deceyte of Diana, by whom it was laied in her way, as Strozza writeth. And hee enlargeth his inuention vppon the french prouerbiall speech, which importeth thus much in effect, that three things proceed from the mouth, which are to be had in high account, Breath, Speech, and Kissing; the first argueth a mans life; the second, his thought; the third and last, his loue.

In the first staffe of this passion the Authour imitateth Petrarch, Sonetto 211.

And the very like sense hath Seraphine in one of his Strambotti, where he beginneth thus,

The substance of this passion is taken out of Seraphine sonetto 127, which beginneth thus.

But the Author hath in this translation inuerted the order of some verses of Seraphine, and added the two last of himselfe to make the rest to seeme the more patheticall.

The Author in this passion wisheth he were in like estate and condition with the Looking Glasse of his mistres; by that meanes the oftner to be made happie with her fauourable and faire aspect. And in the last staffe he alludeth somewhat to the inuētion of Seraphine, where he vseth these wordes, in writing vpon the Glasse of his beloued.

Seraphine in his Strambotti hath many prettie inuentions concerning the Lookingglasse of his Mistres: wherhence many particulars of this passion are cunningly borrowed, part beeing out of one place, and part out of an other. And in the latter end is placed this fiction by the Authour, that Cupid shooting his arrowe from out the faire eies of his Mistres, did so wounde him with loue and desire, that nowe he is past all recure by any phisicke, and therefore is faine to vse the olde verse,

It is to be considered in reading this Passion, howe in some answeres, the accent or poynting of the wordes is altered, and therewithall howe the Authour walking in the woods, and bewayling his inward passion of Loue, is contraried by the replies of Echo: whose meaning yet is not so much to gainsay him, as to expresse her owne miserable estate in daily cōsuming away for the loue of her beloued Narcissus; whose vnkindnes Ouid describeth at large, together with the extreme

Here the Author as a man ouertaken with some deepe melancholie, compareth him selfe vnto the Nightingale, and conferreth his vnhappie estate (for that by no meanes his Mistresse will pitie him) with her nightly complaints: to whose harmonie all those that giue attentiue eare, they conceiue more delight in the musicall varietie of her noates, then they take iust compassion vpon her distressed heauines.

In the first sixe verses of this Passion, the Author hath imitated perfectly sixe verses in an Ode of Ronsard, which beginneth thus:

And in the last staffe of this Passion also he commeth very neere to the sense, which Ronsard vseth in an other place, where he writeth to his Mistresse in this maner:

In this Passion the Authour doth very busilie imitate & augment a certaine Ode of Ronsard, which hee writeth vnto his Mistres; he beginneth, as followeth,

The Authour in this Sonnet in a large maner setteth forth the surpassinge worthines of his Ladie, reporting her beawtie and forme to be so singuler, that neither Appelles can perfectly drawe her portraicte; nor Praxiteles trewly frame her image and likenes in any kinde of mettall. And the like vnablenes he awardeth vnto Uirgill and Homer the two Paragons of Poetrye, if they should but once endeuour to praise her. And the like insufficiencie he sayeth would be found in Tullie him selfe, if he should endeuour to commend her. And thē finally he excuseth his owne bould hardines shewed in praysing her, vpon the forcible extremitie, which he abideth in Loue, and the earnest desire, which he hath to please.

In the first part of this Passion the Author prooueth, that hee abideth more vnrest and hurt for his beloued, then euer did Leander for his Hero: of which two paramours the mutuall feruency in Loue is most excellently set foorth by Musæus the Greeke Poet. In the second part he compareth himselfe with Pyramus, and Hæmon king Creons Sonne of Thebes, which were both so true hearted louers, that through Loue they suffered vntimely death, as Ouid. metam. lib. 4. writeth at large of the one, And the Greeke Tragedian Sophocles in Antig. of the other. In the last, in making comparison of his paynes in Loue to the paines of Orpheus descendinge to hell for his Eurydice, he alludeth to those two verses in Strozza,

There needeth no annotation at all before this Passion, it is of it selfe so plaine, and easilye conuayed. Yet the vnlearned may haue this helpe geuen them by the way to know what Galaxia is, or Pactolus, which perchaunce they haue not read off often in our vulgar Rimes. Galaxia (to omit both the Etimologie and what the Philosophers doe write thereof) is a white way or milky Circle in the heauens, which Ouid mentioneth

And Cicero thus in somnio Scipionis; Erat autem is splendidissimo candore inter flammas circulus elucens, quena vos (vt a Graijs accepistis) orbem lacteum nuncupatis.

Pactolus is a riuer in Lidia, which hath golden sandes vnder it, as Tibullus witnesseth in this verse,

Here the Authour by fayning a troublesome dreame, expresseth a full Passion of Loue. And how soeuer some wil conster of this kinde of inuention, it is euident, that the like hath bin vsuall amongst those that haue excelled in the sweetest vaine of Poetrie. And (to let the rest goe,) it may please him that is curious to finde some president hereof, to visite but

In this Sonnet the Authour is of opinion, that his Mistres (by the fatall appoyntement of destinie) was from the beginning reserued to liue in these times, and to bee the onely gouernesse & subiect of his thoughtes: whereas: if either she had bene borne, when Paris was to giue sentence vpon Ida for bestowing the Golden Apple; she had (as he supposeth) bene preferred before Iuno, Pallas and Venus, & moreouer supplied that place in the loue of kinge Priams sonne, whiche Helen of Greece obteined: or if shee had then liued when Bacchus tooke Ariadne to wife, she had bene conuayed in her steede, vnto that place in heau'n, where nowe the Crowne of Ariadne called

The Author in this Sonnet very highly commendeth the most rare excellencies of his mistres, auouching her to haue no equall. And he imitateth the second Sonnet, Nelle rime di messer Agnolo Fiorenzuola the Florentine, whose beginning is all one with that heere; and this it is:

In this Passion the Authour, as being blinded with Loue, firste compareth himselfe with Tiresias the old Soothsayer of Thebes, whome Iuno depriued of sight; but Ioue rewarded him with the spirit of prophecy. Then he alludeth vnto Actæon: And lastly he sheweth why he is in worse case, then those, which by vewing Medusaes heade were turned into stoanes, leesing both life and light at once; and so concludeth, that olde accursed Oedipus of all other best befitteth him for a companion.

Here the Author misliketh of his wearisome estate in loue, for that he neither obtaineth any fauour at the handes of his Mistres for his good thought or speach, nor by his louinge lookes, or presents, nor by his humilitie in writing, or long sufferance in seruitude. And herehence he blameth her ouerhardnes of heart, and the froward constellation of his owne natiuitie: and therewithall abandoning all further desire of life, hath in request vntimely death, as the only end of his infelicitie.

The Author in this passion doth by manner of secret comparison preferre his beloued before all other women whatsoeuer: and persuadeth vpon the examples of all sortes of Goddes (whom loue hath ouertaken at one time or other) that the worthines of his Mistres being well considered, his owne fondnes in loue must of force be in it selfe excusable.

In the firste staffe of this Passion the Authour expresseth howe fondly his friendes ouertrouble him, by questioninge with him touching his loue, or accidents thereof. In the two last verses of the second staffe he imitateth those verses of Sophocles:

And in the last, he setteth downe his mind fully bent to persist constantly in the loue & seruice of his Ladie: like to that, which Stephanus Forcatulus (an excellent Ciuilian, and one of the best Poetes of Fraunce for these many yeares) wrote vnto his beloued Clytia:

The second part of this Passion is borrowed from out the fifte Sonnet in Petrarch part. 1. whose wordes are these,

The sense contained in this Sonnet will seeme straunge to such as neuer haue acquainted themselues with Loue and his Lawes, because of the contrarieties mentioned therein. But to such, as Loue at any time hath had vnder his banner, all and euery part of it will appeare to be a familier trueth. It is almost word for word taken out of Petrarch, (where hee beginneth,

All, except three verses, which this Authour hath necessarily added, for perfecting the number, which hee hath determined to vse in euery one of these his Passions.

This Passion is framed vpon a somewhat tedious or too much affected continuation of that figure in Rhethorique, whiche of the Grekes is called παλιλογια or αναδιπλωσις, of the Latines Reduplicatio: whereof Susenbrotus (if I well remember me) alleadgeth this example out of Virgill,

In this Passiō the Authour vnder colour of telling his dreame doth very cunningly and liuely praise his Mistres, so farre forth, as not onely to prefer her before Helen of Greece for excellencie of beautie, but also before howe many soeuer are nowe liuing in this our age. The dreame of it selfe is so plainely & effectually set downe (albeit in fewe wordes) that it neede no further annotation to explaine it.

The sense or matter of this Passion is taken out of Seraphine in his Strambotti, who writeth thus,

In this Passion the Authour misliketh one while his estate, & by and by after liketh of the same againe, vppon hoape and likelyhoode of amendment, & throughout the whole Sonnet hee fayneth his Mistres to bee a Second Sunne: and by expressinge his priuate infelicitie, in either alwayes meltinge away with Loue, or growinge stiffe throughe Death approachinge neere him by reason of dayly cares, hee maketh allusion vnto the diuerse effectes of the Sunne, whiche maketh the clay much harder, and the wax softer, then it was before.

Here the Author bewaileth the extremitie of his estate growinge dayly to be more troublesome then before, and all through the hard hart of his beloued: whome he therefore aptly compareth vnto a stony rocke, which nothinge can moue or waste awaye but longe continuance of time. And hereuppon, after hauing longe striued with himselfe and his passions, hee is quyetly resolued to haue patience, & so long to perseuer in the still hoping minde of a trewe louer, till by long continuance of time Loue be induced to stande his friend.

This Passion conteineth a relation through out from line to line; as, from euery line of the first staffe as it standeth in order, vnto euery line of the second staffe: and from the second staffe vnto the third. The oftener it is read of him that is no great clarke, the more pleasure he shall haue in it. And this posie a scholler set down ouer this Sonnet, when he had well considered of it: Tam casu, quàm arte & industria. The two first lines are an imitation of Seraphine, Sonnetto 103.

This Passion conteineth two principal pointes. In the first are placed two similitudes; in both which the Authour expresseth his own wilfulnes in loue. In the second, he compareth the beautifull eyes of his Mistresse vnto the eyes of the Basilique, which killeth a man with his onely sight being a farre of: whereof Lucan lib. 9. saith thus,

And Mantuan in like manner,

The Author in this Song bewrayeth his dayly Passions in loue to be so troublesome, that to auoide the flames thereof, hee gladly & faine would yeelde himselfe to die, were it not that he feareth a further inconuenience would then arise. For he doubteth least those flames, wherein his soule continuallye burneth, shall make Charon afraide to graunt him passage ouer the Lake of Stix, by reason, his old withered boat is apt to take fire.

In this Passion is effectually set downe, in how straunge a case he liueth that is in loue, and in how contrary an estate to all other men, which are at defiaunce with the like follye. And this the Authour expresseth here in his owne person: therewithall calling vpon Loue, to stand his frend; or, if he faile, vpon death, to cut of his wearysome life.

Tityus was the sonne of Iupiter, and for attempting to dishonest Latona, was slaine by Apollo. Since which time the Poetes faine that for punishment he lieth in hell, miserably tormented with a rauening Vulture, which feedeth vpon his bowels continuallie: and they as they are consumed, still miraculously growe vp againe, to breede his endlesse miserie, as the Poet witnesseth,

The Authour compareth his passions with the paines of this Tityus, and imitateth Seneca writing to the like effect,

Here the Authour after some dolorous discourse of his vnhappines, and rehearsall of some particular hurtes which he susteineth in the pursute of his loue: first questioneth with his Lady of his deserte; and then, as hauinge made a sufficiente proofe of his innocency, perswadeth her to pitie him, whom she herselfe hath hurte. Moreouer it is to be noted, that the first letters of all the verses in this Passion being ioyned together as they stand, do conteine this posie agreeable to his meaning, Amor me pungit & vrit.

The two first partes of this Sonnet, are an imitation of certaine Greeke verses of Theocritus; which verses as they are translated by many good Poets of later dayes, so moste aptlye and plainely by C. Vrcinus Velius in his Epigrammes; hee beginneth thus,

In this Passion the Authour boasteth, howe sound a pleasure he lately enioyed in the companie of his Beloued, by pleasing effectually all his fiue senses exterior, and that through the onely benefite of her friendly presence, and extraordinarie fauour towards him. And in many choyse particulars of this Sonnet, he imitateth here and there a verse of Ronsardes, in a certaine Elegie to Ianet peintre du Roy: which beginneth thus,

The whole inuention of all this Passion is deducted out of Seraphine, Sonnet 63. whose verses if you reade, you will iudge this Authors imitatiō the more praiseworthy; these they are

The first Staffe of this Passion is much like vnto that inuention of Seraphine in his Strambotti, where he saith,

The second Staffe somewhat imitateth an other of his Strambotti in the same leafe; it beginneth thus,

The Authour in the laste Staffe, returneth to entreate Death a new, to ende his dayes, as being halfe perswaded that Loue would restore vnto him his hart againe.

Here the Authour cheerefully comforting himselfe, rebuketh all those his frendes, or others whatsoeuer, which pitie his estate in Loue: and groundeth his inuention, for the moste part, vpon the old Latine Prouerbe, Consuetudo est altera natura. Which Prouerbe hee confirmeth by two examples; the one, of him, that being borne farre North seldome ketcheth colde; the other of the Negro, which beinge borne vnder a hote climate, is neuer smoothered with ouermuch heate.

Aetna, called in times past Inesia, as Volaterranus witnesseth, is a hollow hill in Sicilia, whose toppe burneth continuallie, the fire being maintained with a vaine of brimstone, and other such like Mineralles, which are within the said Mountaine. Which notwithstanding, the bottome of the hill is verie pleasant, as well for the aboundance of sweete fruites and flowers, as for the number of freshe springes and fountaines. The Poetes faine, that when Iuppiter had with his thunderboltes beaten downe the Gyantes of the earth, which rebelled against heauen, he did forthwith couer and oppresse them all with the weight of this hill Aetna. These thinges being well considered, together with the verse of Horace;

It may easily appeare, why the Author in this passion compareth his heart vnto the hill.

The Author in this passion accuseth his owne eyes, as the principall or onelie cause of his amorous infelicitie: wherein his hearte is so oppressed continuallie with euils, which are contrarie in them selues, that reason can beare no swaye in the cause. Therefore in the ende, he instantlie entreateth his Ladie of her speedie fauoure and goodwill, alleaginge what hurte may growe through her longer delaye.

The Authour groundeth this Passion vpon three poyntes. In the first, he sheweth howe he witting and wilfully followeth his owne hurt, with such like words as Medæa sometime vsed,

In the second, he excuseth his fault vpon the maine force and tyrannie of Loue, being the onely gouernour of his wil. And lastly, he humbly entreateth his Lady for the restitution of his wonted libertie: desiring her not to exact more of him, then his abilitie of bodie or mind can well susteine, according to the olde verse,

The inuention of this Passion is borrowed, for the most parte from Seraphine Son. 125. Which beginneth,

That the vulgar sorte may the better vnderstand this Passiō, I will briefly touch those, whom the Author nameth herein, being all damned soules (as the Poets faine) & destinate vnto sundrie punishmentes. Tantalus hauing his lippes still at the brinke of the riuer Eridanus, yet dieth for thirst. Ixion is tied vnto a wheele; which turneth incessantly. A vulture feedeth vpon the bowels of Tityus, which growe vp againe euer as they are deuoured. Sisyphus rowleth a great rounde stoane vp a steeepe hill, which being once at the top presētly falleth downe amaine. Belides are fifty sisters, whose continuall taske is, to fill a bottomlesse tub full of water, by lading in their pitchers full at once.

Loue hath two arrowes, as Cōradus Celtis witnesseth in these two verses:

The one is made of leade, the other of golde, and either of them different in quality from the other. The Authour therfore faineth in this Passion, that when Cupid had strokē him with that of lead, soone after pittying his painefull estate, he thought good to strike his beloued with the other. But her brest was so hard, that the shaft rebounding backe againe, wounded Loue him selfe at vnawares. Wherehence fell out these three inconueniences; first, that Loue him selfe became her thrall, whome hee shoulde haue conquered; then, that she became proud, where she should haue been friēdly, and lastly, that the Authour by this meanes despaireth to haue any recure of his vnquiet life, & therfore desireth a speedie death, as alluding to those sētētious verses of Sophocles

This Passion is of like frame and fashion with that, which was before vnder the number of XLI. whetherto I referre the Reader. But touching the sense or substance of this Passion, it is euident, that herein the Authour, by layinge open the long continued grieuesomnes of his misery in Loue, seeketh to moue his Mistres to some compassion.

In the first and second part of this passion, the Author proueth by examples, or rather by manner of argument, A maiori ad minus, that he may with good reason yeeld him selfe to the imperie of Loue, whome the gods them selues obey; as Iuppiter in heauen, Neptune in the seas, and Pluto in hell. In the last staffe he imitateth certaine Italian verses of M. Girolamo Parabosco; which are, as followeth.

A man singuler for his learning, and magistrate of no small accoumpt, vpon slight suruey of this booke of passions, eyther for the liking he had to the Author, or for his owne priuate pleasure, or for some good he conceyued of the worke, voutchsafed with his own hand to set down certaine posies concerning the same: Amongst which, this was one, Loue hath no leaden heeles. Whereat the Author glaunceth throughout al this Sonnet; which he purposely compyled at the presse, in remembrance of his worshipfull frend, and in honour of his golden posie.

The Author hath wrought this passion out of certaine verses of Stephanus Forcatulus, which are these.

And whereas the Author in the end of this passion, alludeth to the woundes of Telephus, he is to be vnderstoode of that Telephus, the Sonne of Hercules, of whose wounde, being made and healed by Achilles onely, Ouid writeth thus.

And propertius in like maner lib. 2.

Suidas mentioneth another Telephus, an excellent Grāmarian of Pergamus.

In the first staffe of this Passion, The Authour as one more then halfe drowping with despaire, sorowfully recounteth some particular causes of his vnhappinesse in Loue. In the residue, he entreateth a better aspecte of the Planets, to the end, that either his life may bee inclined to a more happie course, or his death be hastned, to end all his misery at once.

In this passion the Authour some what a farre off imitateth an Ode in Gervasius Sepinus written to Cupid, where hee beginneth thus:

The Authour writeth this Sonnet vnto his very friend, in excuse of his late change of study, manners, and delights, all happening through the default of Loue. And here by examples he proueth vnto him, (calling him by the name of Titus, as if him selfe were Gysippus) that Loue not onely worketh alteration in the mindes of men, but also in the very Gods them selues; and that so farre forth, as first to drawe them from their Celestiall seates and functions, and then to ensnare them with the vnseemely desire of mortall creatures, a Passion ill befitting the maiesty of their Godheads.

In this Sonnet The Authour seemeth to specifie, that his Beloued maketh her aboade in this our beautifull and faire Citty of London, situate vpon the side of the Themse, called in latine Thamesis. And therefore, whilst he faineth, that Thamesis is honourably to be conueyed hence by all the Gods, towardes the Palace of old Nereus, he seemeth to growe into some iealosie of his mistres, whose beautie if it were as well known to thē, as it is to him, it would (as he saith) both deserue more to be honoured by thē, and please Tryton much better, then Thamesis, although she be the fairest daughter of old Oceanus.

Here the Author, by faining a quarrell betwixt Loue and his Heart, vnder a shadow expresseth the tyrannie of the one, & the miserie of the other: to sturre vp a iust hatred of the ones iniustice, and cause due compassion of the others vnhappines. But as he accuseth Loue for his readines to hurt, where he may; so he not excuseth his Heart, for desiring a faire imprisonment, when he neded not: thereby specifying in Loue a wilfull malice, in his Heart a heedlesse follie.

The Author in this passion, vpō a reason secret vnto him selfe, extolleth his Mistres vnder the name of a Spring. First he preferreth the same before the sacred fount of Diana, which (as Ouid witnesseth 3. Metam:) was in the valley Gargaphie, adioyning to Thæbes: then, before Tagus the famous riuer in Spaine, whose sandes are intermixt with stoare of gold, as may be gathered by those two verses in Martiall lib. 8.

And lastly, before Hippocrene, a fountaine of Bœotia, now called the well of the Muses, & fained by the Poets, to haue had his source or beginning from the heele of Pegasus the winged horse.

In this passion the Authour boroweth from certaine Latine verses of his owne, made long agoe vpon the loue abuses of Iuppiter in a certaine peece of worke written in the commendation of women kinde; which he hath not yet wholie perfected to the print. Some of the verses may be thus cited to the explaning of this passion, although but lamelie.

Ouid writeth somewhat in like manner Metam. lib. 6.

In this Sonnet the Author being, as it were, in halfe a madding moode, falleth at variance with Loue himselfe, & blasphemeth his godheade, as one that can make a greater wounde, then afterwardes he him selfe can recure. And the chiefe cause that he setteth downe, why he is no longer to hope for helpe at Loues hande, is this, because he him selfe could not remedie the hurt which he susteyned by the loue of faire Psyches.