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TO THE RIGHT VVORTHIE GENTLEMAN MASTER WILLIAM ASCHAM REPLENISHED WITH THE BOVNTIES OF Art and Nature.

Molli discumbas via,
Hæc via illi summa.
Seu

If those be patrons fittest for our labours,
Whose vertuous actions merit our respect,
Who fitter then your selfe for to protect,
Our infant Poems with your mature fauor?
Whose fragrant bosome euer had that sauor,
And perfect relish, that the pure effect
Of your sincerest loue would thinke no shame,
To take in worth what from Pernassus came.
Beleeue me Sir those manie well tuned straines
Of your concording vertues haue produced
These harsher poems: let me be excused
Sith what I write concernes poore homely swaines,

That vsed to frolicke in the spacious plaines,
My muse with no Cadmean drops infus'd
Shelters her humble selfe vnder your wing,
Which if you grant, she may securely sing.
Call but to mind the seedplot of your youth,
Stagyras well-spring, Britons Hesperie,
Which at one time receau'd both you and me,
You to grow vp, me to admire your growth,
Hoping to see that which might glad vs both.
Your inward graces, graced outwardly.
For now my Poems rellish when they finde
So great a fortune in so great a minde.
If I should speake but what I doe conceaue,
I should make stale those merits of your owne,
In shewing them which be already showne,
Yet if I were but able to engraue,
In monumentall tablets, you should haue
The highest place, because the highest growen
In ripe and pregnant iudgement which approue,
Both art and nature beare you speciall loue.
Long may you flourish in the grouth of time,
To be a refuge to the muses nine,
Diuinest shades should shadow powers diuine,
That when poore Celsus writes in ragged rime,
He may receiue protection by your shrine,
Whose beauteous raies with more perfection shine,

Then the malignant censures of the worst
Shall ere raze out, if that their gall should burst.
More could I write (for subiect had I still,
Of writing more and more,) but modesty
Tells me your vertues would not praised be,
For vertues praise doth from her selfe distill,
Wherefore I curbd th' intention of my will,
Ioying to see these honors which I see,
So well portraid in you, that your worth,
Makes the earth glory in so great a birth.
Your vertues admiror humblie deuoted, Richard Brathvvayte.

Vpon the illustrate Prince Henrie, the Authors long meditated teares: Draigned from a fresh renewing spring euer distilling: Some whereof the passionate Elegiake offers to His neuer dying monument.

Hinc meamusa gemit, quæ seria non sera currit,
Non matura satis carmina: causa nimis.

Dost weepe to see him dead? or thou dost come
To view him liuing in his dying tombe?
Liuing (said I) and dying? yes: his death
Seems to infuse in him a liuing breath,
That being dead to earth, earth might transpose,
His earthy corps vnto eternall ioies.
Dead? yes, and aliue too; this seems strange:
For single death he gets a double change:
Of life and death: death to shut vp his eies,
Life to enthrone him in heauens paradice.
Mere heire vnto a king, but there he sings
A glorious pæan to the king of kings.
A good exchange: what better? none to thee,
Translated prince: yet no change worse to me,
And to the state: O enuy that our will
Should so depraued be, to wish him ill,
For our owne priuate good: Great good indeed,
And to be wisht for: O where shall we reade
So many vertues charactred in youth,
So rare a mirror in the Court of truth.
So pure intentions seconded by fame,
So hopefull diuinations in his name.

So generall affection as nere any,
In one heart, kept the hearts of halfe so many.
Ist then impiety to weepe, or show
Our zeale to him? whom there was none did know
That by relation wept not; O I see,
In euery face the face of Niobe,
Sencelesse and speechlesse: yet in sense and speech
Thus much entire affection seems to teach
Posterity hereafter: as't appeares
Both sence and speech supplied are by teares.
Teares inundation, so as we might feare,
And not without iust cause some deluge nere,
But that we see a rainebow which portends
Heauen has imposd vnto our sorrowes ends
And limits, which ore past can hardly be,
So soone slip griefes out of our memory.
So soone? indeede too soone: poems in blacke
Resemble the blacks we weare vpon our backe.
Which whilst we follow the sad mournfull beere,
Some more for fashion then compassion weare.
Vnworthy mourners, do your griefes extend
No further? must your teares with his blest end
Expire together? why then I pray retire
Let our sole notes sith that our notes be higher
And far more shrill, supply your place: ile find
Motiues of griefe vnto th' immotiu'sts mind.
You are blind with teares, I but of late began,
One eye may see more then another can.
Why should men thinke th' inuention halfe so rare,
Or worth record: to bring a stream: from Ware,
Of pure spring water? for without lesse charge
I could haue dreind a riuer full as large
Without ere pumping for't: and with a sluse
As artificiall: which could no way chuse

(Such is the force of an obsequious pitty)
But conuey water to most parts o'th city.
And this without a Iacobs staffe, or ought
Saue the dimensions of an aierie thought;
Which measures each proportion, onely griefe
Excepted, which the measure of reliefe
Could neuer compasse: yet there would be fault
In my conueiance, for my spring is salt
And mixt with briny vapors which distill,
Like pond or marish waters from a hill.
But theirs more sweet, so could I mine allay,
If I had been at so much cost as they.
Next wonder that we haue obserud this yeere,
Is that the winter did like spring appeare,
Garnisht with varied flowers, and euery sweet
Checkerd with borders for the Syluans meet
To frolicke on: and why? they are of that nature,
That when they'r merry, they presage some creature
Of worth or admiration must commend,
Their bones to rest by some approaching end.
Ill natur'd bugbeares, why should you delight,
To see that sunne lodge in eternall night
That gaue a lustre with his sparkling eie
To euery plant within his Monarchy
Each humble spray or flower that grew i'th field
Of honor, would he honor with his shield
Of eminent respect: respect lesse you,
That neuer giue to merit whats her due.
But I must cease, that I may weepe the more,
For ceaselesse though I weepe, I haue teares in store
Two buckets to one well, both of them goes,
The one for my teares, the other for my woes.
That teares and woes contracted both in one,
May pierce in time this monumentall stone.

THE ARGVMENT of this Treatise.

Berillvs an Arcadian shepheard, who frequented the flowrie plaines of Ida; and indeed no lesse musicall, then pastorall: For his learning famous, for his measure in all compositions curious, for his censure in moderne presentments, no lesse affected, then by his fellow-inhabitants admired; fell in loue with a Nimph of the adioyning mountaine, hight Eliza: of parentage honorable, of beautie incomparable, and endowed with all graces internall; which made her no lesse beloued, then desired euen of the greatest: for her demerits were such, as Arcadia resounded with her praises. Long had shee (euen of a naturall loue vnto retirednes) sequestred her selfe from the publique concourse of the world, professing as it seemed a vestrall life: when now (being of great expectancie, as the onely daughter to her father) shee


suite, plaies vpon his simplicitie: so as the shepheard surprised with a sympathie of passions, in that his hopes and great expectances are made abortments: proined of their expected growth, and blasted in the prime of his affections, sits descanting of his discontents: making his pipe the surdon of his sorrow: to expresse his languishments more fully; in an abrupt straine of discords (as that harmonie best suites with his present fortunes) lying deiected on the ground (best repose for his declining hopes) thus intimates his owne miserie: shadowing (though couertly) womans inconstancie: shutting vp his ode with this conclusion: They are happie, who haue seene (and by seeing) haue bene cautioned of a louers miserie, and womans obduracie, hating where they propound most euident and infallible Testimonies of their sincerest loue.

1

THE PASTORALL.

In Arcadie, a place of great renowne
Famous for flowry pastures, there remaind
A youthfull shepherd, who vpō the down,
Hight Idas plaine, such honour had obtaind
Amongst all shepheards by his trophies gaind,
And worthie feates in euerie May game showen
That his atchieuements were so glorious growen,
As he the flower of shepheards still was nam'd
Nor of that honour might he be asham'd,
For many shepheards thē there were, whose grace
In actiue feats put Heroes out of place.
Tmolus was one of such a noble spirit
Adornd with beautie and perfection too,
That in all actions he the wreath did merit
Decking with laurell his victorious brow.
Was praisd of all, yet neuer would he heare it,
Nor of vaine glorie least appearance show:
Such store of graces from his minde did flow;
Of able bodie, and of pregnant wit,
That euen these times haue much admired it:
For manie laies would Tmolus ofttimes make
In diuine measures for Amyclas sake.
2

Next him was Thyrsus of a comely hew
A pure complexion, and a pleasant grace,
Who to his friends prou'd faithfull still and true,
With painted smile nere would he soile his face:
For he descended from a noble race,
As his admired vertues still did shew:
For fame and honour euer did reuew,
The spacious mansions of this shepheards place
Walking with honour in his parents trace,
Such was this Thyrsus (Thyrsus was his name)
Nor of that title might he thinke't a shame.
Pelorus was the third, a lustie swaine
That vs'd to graise his cattell by the riuer
Euenus hight: where oft he would complaine,
Of his hardhearted loue: nor would he euer,
Those pensiue odes (in silent woes) containe
But chaunts his passions ore and ore againe:
Such brinie streames could be exempted neuer,
For light (which lightsome seems) his ioies disseuer
Making his comforts barraine: O how faine
VVould he haue glad himselfe with harmonie,
But what he sought could not effected be.
O my Laerte (would this shepheard say)
VVhy doest exile me from thy presence deere?
Why shouldst thou with thy loure benight my day,
And racke my intrals with perpetuall feare?
I pray thee (loue) more cheerefully appeare,
3

Feede not my passions with a long delay,
But let the night at last my griefes allay,
That I some pleasant harmonie may heare,
Sounding a concord in my dolefull eare,
O be so kinde, that if no day, yet night
May yeelde me comfort and renew delight.
Thus would Pelorus iterate his woe
And make the pastures eccho with his voice,
For to what caue so ere this swaine did goe
He made it answer with an horrid noise,
For where he was, no creature could reioyce,
Sith what he did, his cattell would doe so,
Both foode and water willing to forgoe,
And frame their routing to their Maisters choice
A discord well concording with his voice,
His flockes were thankefull to deplore his fall
Mourning to heare their Maisters mournfull call.
Manie fine bowers this shepheard vsd to frame
Of mirtle braunches, and of poplar greene,
Wherein he vsd to endorse his louers name,
Whose curious workes to this day may be seene,
Which cannot chuse but æternise his fame
And that renowmed house from whence he came,
For few such swaines on earth haue euer beene
Of such respect, such vertue, such esteeme:
But he is gone, and hath depriu'd the earth
Of her chiefe beautie, portraied in his birth.
4

Tymallus was the next, who for his strength
Antæus like, regaind the highest prise
Amongst all shepheards, but the fates at length
Seem'd to oppose his worthie enterprise,
Shutting the glorious splendor of his eies,
(Themselues contented in our discontents)
Changing the nature of those elements,
Which in Tymallus did so sympathise,
That I haue heard, though this same shepheard dies,
Yet euerie yeere the inhabitants receaue,
Where hees interd sweete odors from his graue.
O thou perfumed vrne that doest containe
Within thy shrine and sable monument,
The famous reliques of a noble swaine,
Mansion of honour, vertues continent,
Shine euer bright to grace that ornament
Which thou possessest: let no priuate staine
Blemish that poore remainder, whose pure name
Makes earth, no earth, but as an element
Drawen from the earth, to raise her excrement,
Rest thee Tymallus in thy house of clay,
Whilest we relate thy actions euerie day.
But now must I leaue these, and come to him,
Whose sacred muse pearceth the aerie clouds,
And with Berillus excellence begin
Some higher straine: leauing the silent wods,
The silent shades, the pastures and the floods,
5

Which cherished the swaines: now must I trimme
With varied colours euerie braunch and limme
Of my discoarse: that such as vnderstood
Of this Berillus, may wish him some good,
And adde some proper actions of their owne
To those of his, and make them better knowne
It chaunced on a time, the swaines agreed
To celebrate the festiuals of Pan,
Pan was the God, by which their flocks did feede,
And their encrease on Ida first began,
Therefore each swaine with all the speed he can,
Came with sweete incense from his flourie mede,
To sacrifice to Pan of all their breed,
One with a kid, another with a lambe,
Or some young suckling wained from the damme,
Mongst whom Berillus came, willing to offer,
To Pales incense, and to Pan an heifer.
Vnto the Temple which erected was,
Neere to the foote of Idas sacred mount,
From whence a Nectar riuolet did passe,
Which was enstiled Cythereas fount,
Came all these shepheards, who with great account,
And solemne honour offred in that place,
The firstlings of their flocks were wont to grase
Vpon the neighbour plaines, or which were wont
To brouse the flourie vale, or feede vpon't,
Each offred what they had, fruits of their border,
The best the first, the residue in order.
6

Amidst these solemne feasts, obsequious vowes,
Came in Eliza, one of beautie rare,
With other virgins, for what end heauen knowes,
Saue to perplex such as religious were:
Such tempting creatures wanton women are,
Seducing vs with smiles and seeming showes,
Farre worse then the furie of externall blowes:
For those shed blood, these doe torment with care
And vex vs with new sorrowes, till despaire
Surprise our mindes, our solace dispossesse,
Making vs obiects of times pensiuenesse.
Noe sooner had he spied (aye me too soone)
The Syren countenance of this seeming sect,
Then incense, Censor, coales, & all throwne downe,
fixing his eyes on her, showd his intent,
Hauing our heart there where our eyes be bent,
To such a passion he in fine was growne,
That he could scarcely vouch himselfe his owne,
But pitching there his campe, his fort, his tent,
Confin'd himselfe within her element,
For he transported was (poore harmelesse man,)
To Elizas Altar from the shrine of Pan.
Shall I adore (quoth he) a rurall God,
A pasture Saint, a sheepish deitie,
When a more heauenly creature makes abode,
Cheering my comforts in varietie,
Promising pleasures in sacietie?
7

No, no, her presence farre more comforts bode
Then Pan ere had: too long my feete haue stoode,
Too long my knees haue bow'd (poore Pan) to thee
I see a Saint that better pleaseth me.
This said (his incense from his shrine bereft)
Vnto his goddesse goes, the Altar left.
Like to a forward wooer trained long
In louers vowes, and solemne protestations,
He takes her by the hand: and softlie wrong
Her tender pulse, augmenting sundrie passions
Of an vnfained loue (Heauens inuocations)
Making his heart the subiect of his tongue,
His tongue the Herald of euents to come,
Calling the Gods to record his intentions,
And all those aery powers whose blest conuentions
Confirme each action both in heauen and earth,
The fatall end drawne from a fatall birth.
If that I loue not (honourd queene) quoth he,
Mirror of beautie, diamond of fame,
If that I euer haue not honourd thee,
And registred the annals of thy name,
And with my deerest blood confirmd the same,
Neuer respect these teares distild from me,
Nor of thy worth let me accepted be.
But if I haue beene faithfull, thinke't no shame
To fix thy loue on me that faithfull am,
For sooner shall the sunne surcease to shine,
Then I surcease to reuerence thy shrine.
8

See in what diuine rites, what sacred hests,
I was distracted, to enioy your loue,
For sincere loue, delaies in loue detests,
Enforc'd the fruites (which he desires) to prooue,
O let me prooue them, so shall griefes remooue,
Their pensiue stations, and afford sweete rest
Vnto my restlesse soule, by thee made blest:
I was brought vp (dere sweete) in Idas groue,
Hatchd in an Aerie, sprung from bowers aboue,
Those bowrs, those flowrs, those showrs we did descend
Frō Ioues pure throne, thy beauty shal defend.
Those bowers which louely Adon did frequent,
Those flowers to which Narcissus was transformd
Those liquid showers where Danae reapt content,
All in one symptome with one wreath adornd,
To louers vnitie sweete straine conformd,
(For purer straines nere had earths continent,
Then such as descant louers complement)
Where limpe-halt Vulcan too too long soiornd,
With loues contempt portraide, displaied & hornd,
But louers cannot put abuse, nor wrong
Those faithfull vowes which they professed long.
See but this incense how it lost her smell,
See but this censor how it lost her fire,
Which intimates; nought can expresse so well
The feruent passions of our mindes desire,
As beautie a presence, which doth still aspire,
9

To aerie mansions from the vault of hell,
For perfect loue all vapors can expell,
And giue the louer due reward, due hire,
Scorning with coward pace to make retire,
Loue is a captaine which obtaines the prise,
Scorning the worst and basest enterprise.
But like victorious cheiftaines which enclose
The strongest bullwarks with continued labour,
Despising rest, minds quiet, nights repose,
By their renoumed acts to purchase fauour,
(Whose resolutions know not how to wauer
Nor the pale harbour of distracted woes,
Know how to feare) euen so affection goes,
Till memorie (of Heroes acts engrauer)
Enobled by worths monuments shall haue her,
Registring her pure vertures in their shrine,
For diuine acts deserue a throne diuine.
Noe steepie mount can be too peering high,
Noe craggie cliffe for loue too intricate,
For such is loue and louers maiestie,
As its secure in euery dismall state,
Passing the iudgement of impartiall state,
Neerer the title of a deitie,
Being the same which she doth seeme to be,
Hating the cause of times producing hate,
Ope be her eyes (wide ope) early and late,
Discoursing where or how her comforts be,
Taking no rest to gaine eternitie.
10

O be not selfe conceited (dearest loue)
See but thy image, how it doth desire
Another image: ayming euer higher,
Till it enioy what it intends to prooue,
Much like the Turtle with the Turtle-doue
Or like the Phenix, who in her owne fire,
Portraies her selfe both mother, seede and sire:
Her ashie vrne her tombe, her flame the groue,
To life infusd by some effects aboue.
Be then the Phenix, as in beautie rare,
So be thy actions farre aboue compare.
What better sutes which beautie then delight?
What better with delight then loues content?
What better with content then cheerefull light?
What better sutes with light then th' element,
That best concords with her? whats that? th' extent
Of pure affection: which expels the night,
And makes vs pleasant in our louers sight,
For honest louers shew their mindes intent,
By outward signes; an Incense redolent,
In sincere loue, composd of sundrie links,
Thinkes what she speakes, and speaketh what she thinkes.
Then speake (deere loue) let this same sacred place,
Where we be present, consecrate our loue:
Let Pan himselfe confirme our Nuptiall grace,
And all the powerfull Queristers aboue
Sing cheerefull layes: while our affections moue
11

Their true Ideas: that illustrate race,
From whence you were deriud, quickens my chace
And bids me hope: you cannot chuse but loue,
Their worth cannot be base whose births aboue,
Then as thou art erected, let me tast,
The fruites of loue, when discontents be past.
For if a faithfull shepheard can deserue,
Meede for his faith: my faith deserues as much.
How oft haue I thy name desir'd to carue
In euerie tree? and when I sought to touch
The tender barke, or rinde, it nere thought much,
But willingly endurd my sculpture: thus plāts serue
Thy blest attendance: that they may obserue,
A module in thy fancie: that is such,
That if they should doe all, yet not too much
can be done to thy shrine: if plants doe this,
(If I should not doe more) I did amisse.
Since time I knew thee (fairest of all faires,)
I could not goe, as I was wont to doe
Vnto my pastures: for such heapes of cares
Possest my crasie braines, surprised so
With thy affections, that whereso ere I goe,
Sit, or lie downe, nought of sweete ioye appeares,
But multitudes of my renewing feares,
Which make me sleeping wake, thinking of woe,
And then of ioy: thus interposd twixt two,
A double forme my single forme partakes,
Now waking sleepes, & sleeping straight awakes.
12

For that sweete sleep which cōfort yeelds to others,
Yeeldes a distast to me: what can be sweete
Where hope is dead? hope is a louing mother,
Banishing sorrow with a silent sleepe,
That feedes the shepheard, and reuiues his sheepe,
Reducing them into one fould together,
But sheepe nor shepherd there's no health to either,
If thou my shephardesse refuse to gather
My disperst Flocks: and shall denie to keepe
My watching eyes that doe desire to sleepe,
But cannot sleepe, to double paines they are put,
Ope by thy presence, by thy absence shut.
No day nor night can solace yeelde to me,
Both be vnwelcome guests: and whats the cause?
To tell the truth: that day I see not thee
Seemes farre more darke then night: loue hath no clause,
No limit, nor no bond: loue cannot be
Confinde in bonds, it hates captiuitie:
Meriting honour by diuinest lawes,
As for her action it deserues applause,
O then (deere sweete) be not so soft to show,
So hard to loue: receiue these vowes I owe.
Oft haue I walkd within the Idalian groue,
Calling each plant, each blossome to record
The spotlesse vowes of my refined loue:
And euerie plant did seemingly accord
Vnto my vowes: springs did their teares afford,
13

And euery sencelesse rocke did passions moue:
Crying I loue, the eccho cried I loue,
For euery accent, accented my word,
A louely concord in a loues discord.
If plants, rocks, riuers so remorsefull be,
Farre more remorse I doe expect from thee.
Thy substance is more heauenly, then disdaine
Should soile a mansion of so pure delight:
Thou seest me loue, and thou wilt loue againe:
I know thou wilt, those vowes which I haue plight
Cannot but haue respect in louers sight:
Which if thou doe, (beleeue me) ile remaine
As I haue beene a poore well willing swaine,
And with my pipe on euery winter night
Play laies of loue, to further thy delight.
Beleeue me sweete, and you may thinke it true,
My Flocks vnfollowed are to follow you.
The wanton lambkins frolicke on the plaine,
Skipping and leaping in their floure of youth,
While in a secret caue, I scarce containe
My selfe from teares, and so Melampus doth,
Poore harmelesse curre, for he is very loth
To see me so deiected: howling amaine,
Prickeard, bleare eyed, yeelds me a dolefull straine,
Of doggrell musique: thus perplexed both,
Repine to see each creature in their grouth,
And we dismaid, with woes immured so,
As others ioyes seeme to augment our woe.
14

Last day but one Amicla came to me,
And askd the reason why I was so sad:
Thou vsd, quoth she, so full of mirth to be,
That with thy pipe thou made the pastures glad,
And was accounted still the cheerefulst lad
In all our plaine: how coms it then quoth shee,
Such sullensuds haue so perplexed thee?
Come, come away and leaue this pensiue shade,
For piping, not for pining thou was made,
Come, come I say, and quickly follow me,
And ore this downe lets dance it nimbly.
Alas Amicla, thus I answerd her,
How can I pipe, my rede is out of tune,
How can I dance, that can but hardly stirre
My crasie ioints: O no, that time is done,
Nor wil't hereafter (much I doubt it) come
To ioy my dolefull life, or ere appeare,
To end my griefes that eccho euery where,
For griefes speake loudest when the speech is dūbe
Engrosing daily still a greater summe.
Leaue me Amicla, how can I recite,
My wonted measures that has broke my pipe?
Broken thy pipe? Ile mend it (sweete) quoth she,
And make it tune with more delightfull measure
Then ere it did: lend but thy pipe to me:
I lent it her, that I in part might please her,
But it plaid tunelesse still: nor could it ease her,
15

Descanting discords: sadder harmonie
Nere did I heare of sage Melpomene:
It knew his Maisters straine, not all the treasure
Of Tagus golden oare, no time, no leasure,
Had either I or my poore pipe to play,
For thoughts of loue had tane all ioyes away.
Amicla when she saw it would not be,
Threw downe my pipe, for it was soone thowne downe,
And with quicke pace away departed she,
VVhile I despised, of my selfe lay downe
Vnder a shadie beech well ouer growne,
With broad-spred braūches which did shadow me,
But not obscure the loue I bare to thee;
Calling the heauens to witnesse, and mine owne,
Mine own poore bleting flocks! my loue was shown
Not in assemblance, but so really,
That nought seem'd sweete which did not tast of thee.
Thy breath a perfume, and thy voice a tone,
Of perfect concords: thy bright eye a starre,
Thy mouth an Hyblemount, thine armes a throne,
Thy teeth a pearly cordon, thy pure haire
Tramels of purest gould, where lodged are
Those three admired graces, all in one,
As if they ment there to reside alone:
Thy browes like Beacons, where we see afarre
Adioyning places, mannagements of warre,
Breefely, noe part thou hast from top to toe,
But may be askt why nature made it so?
16

And straight it answers: Nature made me thus,
To be a mirrour past all imitation,
Sith choicest colours my proportion chuse,
A beauteous frame formd of the best creation,
That after times might make more full relation,
What they haue seene proportioned in vs
And leaue records of it: that euery muse,
If pregnant, may discourse to euery Nation,
A perfect module made for recreation,
But for no humane creature; such as loue vs,
Must come frō heauē, & plāt their throne aboue vs
O tell me then (deere loue) if so it be,
Humane affections cannot worthie seeme,
By their intentiue minds to honour thee,
And therefore iustly haue condemned beene,
To gase on that which should be rarely seene,
For such as thou art, oft reserued be,
Not for Earths frame, but for æternitie:
Tell me but this (and by this kisse) I meane
Nere to repaire vnto thy shrine againe,
Or ere make sute (as here I doe professe)
To be thy shepherd, thou my shepherdesse.
When poore Berillus finisht had his sute,
Looking for answer at Elizas hand,
Pans Priest came in, and put Berillus out,
Onely thus much well might he vnderstand,
That he was lou'd of her, but th' Priests command
17

(Ill fall such shauelings) euer went about,
Hearing their amorous stories to roote out
Their pure affections: mouing with his wand,
Or sacra virga, that they should descend,
And leaue loues passions to another place,
For in Pans Temple loue can haue no grace.
The forelorne Shepheard went same way he came,
Sad and deiected, yet with hope releeued,
Thinking by absence to quench out the flame,
Which dally made encrease: being depriued
Of those blest meanes, by which we are reuiued,
Hope the best Anchor which supports our flame,
Made this poore shepherd to pursue his game,
Hoping by such effects as he contriued,
To haue his ioyes renewd: but was deceaued,
For where he thought to finde contētment most
In that same place he was the greatliest crost.
For from that time nere could he see his dere,
Kept as it seem'd for Pan, or for his Priest,
For this same shaueling euer would be there,
Desiring (lustfull prelate) there to feast,
Where she remaind: for he has oft confest,
That he has wisht himselfe transformed were
Into some slender creature, to appeare
At all times to Eliza: who thought least
Of such a wanton votarie: heauens detest,
Such vow in fringing masse priests whose professiō
Collects a reason out of each suspition.
18

Farewell Eliza, if thou liue so long,
As to repent thee of thy breach of faith,
I doe not doubt but thou'l confesse the wrong
Which thou hast done me, and abiure that breath,
Which thou exhal'd, adiudging me to death,
By that remorselesse heart, that Syren tongue,
Which (if thou liu'st) will sing another song:
Take heede, the sword's drawne frō the irefull sheath,
And inbred horror creepeth vnderneath.
Whom thou affectest most, affects thee least,
Hating thy Swaine to take thee to thy Priest.
But if god Pan knew how his swaines were vsd,
By such as offer to him sacrifice,
I know full well he would redresse th' abuse,
And saue our honour from such Priests as these,
Who fill his Temple with impieties,
Wronging the sincere thoughts of each of vs,
Which cannot merit in the heauens excuse:
Small faults with Saints be great enormities,
Shrines that are pure become pure deities,
But ile surcease, griefes make my muse surcease:
Encrease of lines giue to my woes encrease.
19

To Eliza.

A sonnet.

If faire Eliza thou that I haue lou'd,
And vowd more sacred hests vnto thy shrine
Then any loue that ere profest him thine,
Haue but my poems by thy selfe approu'd,
O to what blessed, vnexpected clime
Am I transported by this muse of mine?
But if thou frowne, contract thy brow and loure,
Ile neuer handle this rude pencile more.
I haue not Zeuxes hand to paint thy shape,
But I could wish to graue within thy mound
Some quaint deuise, where if I once were sound,
I know no feature of his liuely grape
Could me exceede: for I haue learnd the ground
Of that deepe art, albeit most profound.
Be thou the module of that curious frame,
That my impression may adorne the same.
Adorne? deforme thou saiest: poore poesie,
Cannot content Elizas Nuptials,
20

Shee's of a lighter straine, her festiuals
Sound and resound with purer harmonie:
She cannot brooke the sullen Saturnals
That mixe our ioyes with sadnesse: Iuuenals,
Best like Eliza: and they would like me,
If I were Iuuenall to sing to thee.
Thy affectionate swaine Pans poorest herdsman.
Jn Arui pascua distichon.
Pastor eram gelidis discumbens mantibus Arui,
Is me languet amor montis, amore tui.

To Dorinda.

Elegie. 1.

The soaring Eagle stouping to allure,
Too base a lure (god wot) for such a bird,
Was soone depriu'd of that he thought most sure,
At which strange hap the Eagle much admird,
To be debard of that he least desird,
Wherefore opprest with furie there he swore,
Descend he would to such base lures no more.
Art thou not borne (quoth he) of royall race,
Hatching thy Aerie in the wildernesse?
And wilt thou then that auncient house disgrace,
Soiling thy glory with such filthinesse,
21

Which would ecclipse thy pristine worthinesse?
O fie for shame let such vnworthies be,
Whose worthles parts will shame thine house and thee.
Thy Father was a Prince, thou art his sonne,
For with thy pearcing eyes canst thou behold
The glorious lustre of the cheerefull sun,
Fruitfull as springtime, not to bondage sould,
Building thy neast in clymates far from cold,
Flie to the Cedar; let this mushrome be,
For higher plants will better nourish thee.
Those sparkling eies of thine which shine so bright,
Clad with the flames of Phœbus regiment,
Cannot immantled be in pitchie night,
But aime at some more gracious element,
Sunne seldome shines on such base excrement,
Then as thou soar'd by nature, so let art
In thine aspiring thoughts sustaine a part.
[_]
Nomine pastoris mellita poemata fundit
Aquila ------ vt infra sequitur.
What plesant poems haue come from my bill,
Whose sweete resounding made the eccoes ring,
In fields and shades where siluer streames distill,
Where Philomell her selfe was wont to sing,
22

Downe by the current of Sabinas spring,
Shall then my brest which tund so plesantly,
Be matchd with such a tunelesse Harmonie?

In poesem Encomion.

Should Hybles sacred art of poesie,
Leese her horizon in the throne of heauen,
Since it hath beene profest by deitie,
Vnto the muses in Pernassus giuen,
A place frequented on each Satyres euen,
Where Satyres danc't & Syluanes in their order,
With all the rites that Hymen could afford her.
Then thou thrice blest profession, which remaines
A solace to the minde, the earths content,
That doubles our night tasks with treble gaines,
Affording vse of louers complement,
The load-starre which directs our regiment,
Neither shall pleasure profit or delight,
Depriue me the fruition of thy sight.

To Dorinda.

The bird Erodius for her louely broode,
Sends out a shower of teares perpetually,
23

And she by natures prescript is allowed
To mourne for her deiected progenie,
Parents with children make one sympathie.
Why should not I doe this for her and more,
Whose hallowed shrine my thoughts did ere adore?
Thou fairest Queene that sits on Idas mount,
Vouchsafe to take this poem I present,
And this my muse shall be deuoted still,
Vnto thine heauenly statue which was sent
From Ioue aboue vnto this continent,
Protect my silly labour and receiue
Vnto thy cell, this little that I haue.
Alas what fortune crost my birth day first,
When fates themselues denied me better meanes,
To gratifie my loue? whose quenchlesse thirst,
In midst of streames, for liquid streames complains,
That her poore trauaile can produce no gaines,
Vnto thy diuine Altar; which shall smell,
With mirrhe & hymns the Nimphs thēselues shal tell.

Amor vt odor.

------ redolentia semina mittit-quisquis amat.

Bring me some odors for my louely queene,
And fragrant posies for my shepherdesse:
A fairer spring-time neuer shall be seene
24

For worth becomes Dorindas worthinesse,
Pipe will I still for I can doe no lesse,
And when my pipe is broken I will take
A shriller pipe for my Dorindas sake.
[_]
Pastor pasce boues, mea fistula cantet amores, &c.
Take out that reed, it doth not please my loue,
It is too slow a straine for her swift course,
She loues not that which will not quickly moue,
And cut the aire like to a foaming horse,
That runs his station with a vehement course,
Such steeds would well beseeme my lady queene
That runs her courser with an easie reine.
Sic mea laxatis currit habenis
Hyppodame equis: quorum spumantia freuis colla torquet.
------ et tu tibi Myrtile fata
dignare fers. ------

ibid.

To Dorinda.

Elegie. 2.

Disdainefull girle that hates thy louer most,
Playing the tyrant with thy beauteous face,
Seeming as wonne, when thou art neerest lost,
Clouding thy beautie with a foule disgrace,
Since blacke disdaine enioyes the cheefest place,
Conceiue remorse, lest thou remorselesse die
Thine acts the authors of thy miserie.
25

How manie times and oft haue I profesd
Vnto thy beautie ceremoniall loue?
What vowes, what hests haue beene by me expresd
Farre more then Adon in Idalias groue,
More then the solemne hests of Turtle doue?
The verie Pellicane is not more true
Vnto her brood, then I would be to you.
Yet thou contemns my loue, and in despite
Of me and of my loue, fleeres in my face:
O will not heauen this crueltie requite,
And dispossesse thee of an Angels place?
Grac'd with more beauty then with beauties grace,
Expect reuenge for heauens reueng'd will be
Of such vow-breaking miscreants as thee.
Wast not enough to scorne me for my want,
But thou must cherish me with fained loue;
And then triumph, and ore my ruins taunt?
In constant minion that doest change and moue
The ball of thy affection, to approue,
Some goulden Asse perchance that will admire
Not halfe so much thy selfe, as thy attire.
Some goulden calfe of Horeb will appeare,
First of his house: decended from a bagg
Of rustie gould, and he will call thee dere
Respectiue Ladie: then his head hee'l wagge,
And sweare by [illeg.]owpin of his summer-nag
He loues thee derely, thou must be his bride,
Since store of angels guard him on each side.
26

Thou must haue waxen tapers wrought in gould,
Thy beads of purest Amber earth can yeeld,
Thou must not tread vpon polluted mould,
Nor walke abroad into the open field,
Without thine estridge taile to be thy shield,
Thy drinke must Nectar be, and thou must eate
Such meate, as for thy diuine powers is meete.
Thy rusticke groome that talks of saluing sheepe,
Of wether-gals, and of the next yeeres dearth,
Will thee Dorinda like a Ladie keepe,
And feede thee with the dainties of the earth,
Replenished with pastures yeelding mirth:
For euery shepherd with his shepherds crooke,
Will striue who may most on thy beautie looke.
Heere will be Mopsus with his waineskot face,
There Damon with his trull will thee attend,
Then will old Acmon come with wearie pace,
And Melibeus hee's thy husbands friend,
Leaning vpon his staffe, will homeward send
For some meane gift, some cheese cake to diuide
Amongst the bride-maids & their courtly bride.
Among the rest thy Vulcane will be there,
Smeered with seacole, comely for his color,
And will begin to tie thy glittering haire
In tresses of pure gould: which are made fowler
27

By his irreuerend hands: where some controler
Will curbe his bouldnesse: am I bould (quoth he)
To touch those haires that doe belong to me?
No minion, no, you must not now partake
The gaudie fashions of a giddie braine,
But you must leaue them for your husbands sake,
And vse those tender parts to rurall paine,
To yeeld vnto your spouse a double gaine,
For rest assur'd Dorinda there be some,
Doe marrie you for after hopes to come.
And be resolu'd though such protest they loue,
Calling the heauens to record: they will be
Such as perfidious Tereus: and will proue
The verie ruine of your progenie,
And bring your state in time to miserie:
Then will you wish (but wishes come too late)
You had but wist the end of your estate.
But why Dorinda should I mention thee?
Why should I name Dorinda, that's vntrue,
A faith infringer, who affected me
And then forsooke me; how should I renew,
the sad memoriall which I had of you?
But with a pensiue heart, a sigh, a grone,
To intimate how I am left alone.
28

Come all ye wood-gods and adorne my brow,
With a poore willow garland, to expresse
The liuely colors of a tragicke show,
The true proportion of my pensiuenesse,
Remote from comfort, frought with heauinesse,
Where we will sing; though singing be vnfit,
And euery wood-nimph shall shed teares to it.
Come to my cell, and we will goe together,
Vnto Dorindas Nuptials, where will be
Great store of rurall swaines com'd flocking thither
A perfect relish of sweete harmonie:
Where we may well Dorindas beautie see:
And see her dance laualto in that measure,
As needes must yeelde to all contented pleasure.
And I haue friends there that will helpe to place
Vs, in a roome contented, to suruiew,
The polishd colors of her curious face,
Which though they doe my pensiue woes renew
Yet am I blest in that transparent shew
Of glorie and renowme, which ioind together
Enforce all shepherds to come flocking thether.
Thus will we talke and prattle of her beautie,
VVith Epithetes well fitting her deserts,
And I will tender to her shrine my duetie,
29

With offer of my loue and of my heart,
Of which she doth possesse the cheifest part:
That she would daine for to accept that prise,
We consecrate to her transpercing eies.

In laudem Dorindæ: per Antiphrasen.

She is the mirror and the type of fame,
If that a blemish did not daze her light,
But that one blot doth much empaire the same,
And hath obscur'd the splendor of her sight:
The scope she aimes at is not aimd aright,
If that one soile did not ecclips the rest,
She might be well reputed, worldes best.
[_]
------ Te Roma Caligiue cæcam
efficit insequitur fugientem Roma Dorindam.
vid. Mant & Luc. in Fragment.

O what content haue I conceau'd in thee
My sweete Dorinda? what a sugred smile,
A lippe of comfort relish'd pleasantly,
An eie that would the prudent'st thoughts beguile?
O with what character, or in what stile
Shall I describe thy feature glorious Saint,
Made of the most refined element?
Thē iudge what wound it was surpris'd mine hart.
When thou proscribd me from thy cherefull court,
30

And with contracted brow bad me depart,
From that repose where comforts make resort:
The birds themselues that heard can make report:
For manie time since I tooke leaue of thee,
The birds themselues sung dirges ouer me.
Recall to minde the time, the place, the words,
For I haue cause for to remember them,
And then conceaue what sorrow they afford,
What cause I haue for to surrender them
Into thy hands, that first did tender them,
O be not so hard-hearted, well I wot,
Thou canst not answer that thou knowest thē not.
O that so weake defectiue elements,
Vessels of frailtie should insult ore strength,
That gould should be prest downe by excrements,
Or womans power extended to that length,
That men (as clergie men) haue but the tenth
Of their affections in you, and receiue
Lesse comfort in your bed, then in your graue.
O what vnhappie planet did attend,
The first arriuall of mine haplesse foote,
Or what discomforts did the furies send
To make me runne a course so farre about,
With no more thanks then if I ran it not?
O fruitlesse labour, for what labour lighter
Thē wash the Æthyope that is nere made whiter?
31

Much haue I read of beautie, more of guile,
Which like a snake lies in the tender grasse,
The baine whereof her glorie doth defile,
And lies interd, as that, which neuer was,
Or like a gliding streame whose course doth passe,
And passing, cuts both hill and flowrie plaine,
Scorning by nature to returne againe.
But thou condemn'st me for some carelesse words,
In that I was respectlesse of thy loue:
O doe not forge vnkindenesse, that affords
More sorrow to my heart, then heauens aboue,
Or fatall Eris in her stigian groue,
What I haue spoke I pray thee speake no more,
And Ile recant what I haue said before.
Inioyne me penance, I will vndertake,
Alcydes labours to obtaine your loue,
Climing the Alps for my beloued sake,
So you distrust from your hard-heart remoue,
And of my faith inuiolate approue:
For be assur'd I nere my loue did shew
To your estate, but loue I bore to you.
But why runne I astray so farre remote
From that celestiall scope I aimed at:
I loue my loue, and yet she knoweth not,
Or will not know my minds perplex'd estate,
Those great distractions I conceiu'd of late,
32

She will not loue, she cannot like a swaine,
Who once repuls'd can make no sute againe,
VVell then surcease, and let this dolefull Ode
Abridge the web of thy extracted griefe,
Take vp thy shepheards crooke, make no abode,
This barraine pasture yeelds thee no reliefe,
But riuolets of teres whereof it's chiefe:
Then bid farewell to this disaster groue,
To Cupids arrowes, and the queene of loue.
[_]
Lumine qui semper proditur ipse suo.

Yet when I talke of Cupid and his bow,
The queene of loue that from mount Ida came,
Some more affecting passions I must show,
And paraphrase vpon Dorindas name:
Where though I blush, for I am full of shame,
Yet in my blush, I seeme to represent,
The beautie of my loues faire continent.
And when I looke me in the dismall glasse,
Where face redarts a face, me thinks I see,
The splendor of Dorindas comely face,
Where with her smile she doth encounter me,
And driues my sences to that extasie:
That I in Lethe droun'd, as all forgotten,
Lets the glasse fall, and so my glasse is broken.
33

Then am I eas'd, depriu'd of that I lou'd,
Opprest with sleepe yet cannot sleepe at all,
Till the remainders of my glasse remou'd,
VVhich were disperst by their vntimely fall,
For they (an ecco like) doe seeme to call
And rouse me from my rest, surpris'd which care,
And reft of rest, declining to despaire.
It may be (my Dorinda) if you wed,
Some splay-foot'd Vulcan you must make recourse,
Too too vnwilling, to a loathed bed,
Whereas distastefull pleasure hath no force,
But mixt with sorrow and with deepe remorse:
Heare me (Dorinda) these few hymns shall tell
That though you loath me, yet I wish you well.
Diue to the verie bottome of your heart,
And see the idiome of your louer there,
An indigested lumpe compos'd of art,
Where natures gifts did neuer yet appeare,
Where folly first her banner seem'd to reare,
An harsh distempred humour showen in him,
A Brillus wit, and a Thersytes limme.
But hee's religious: he can dirges say,
And has our ladies psalter all by heart:
He is modest, rich, and will each morning pray,
As if he had his prayers composd by art,
What you sustaine he euer beares a part:
34

Nay more, to purchase your respectiue fauour,
Hee'l take himselfe to any cotqueanes labour.
Indeede Alcydes for his Omphale,
Past many perils much degenerate
From former glorie, pristine dignitie,
Which euer made attendance on his state,
Too much obscur'd by infamie of hate,
For he to win a queene did then begin,
To tease his wooll, to card and eke to spinne.
[_]
------ Et qui reges vicit, grandes labores egit.
victus amore cecidit:
Qui clauum, lanam exercet:
ibid: Nec nouit mentem comprimere,
qui tanta fecit.
vid Senec.

Each morne would he his taske imposed haue,
Which in a womans habit he perform'd,
And all to purchase her whom he did craue,
With curious roabes & precious gemmes adorn'd,
With whom in this disguise he long soiorn'd,
Till his long absence had his ruine wrought,
By Nessus blood, long time by Nessus sought.
[_]
------ Nessus hos struxit dolos:
cruore tincta est pallia semiferi (pater)
Nessus que nunc has exigit pænas sibi.
------ Et Oetæum Nemus
suscipiat, ignis, Herculem accipiat rogus.
Senec: in Oetæ: Hercul.

35

Beleeue me (faire Dorinda) if that loue
Consist in orisons, I must confesse,
Reason you haue your fancie to remoue,
Since heauens forgiue, frequent I nothing lesse,
Nor can I loue by solemne praiers expresse.
Hymns, pastorals, and pleasant laies beseeme,
Rather then orisons so faire a Queene.
If Hero had Leanders forme affected,
For rites or ceremonies consecrate
Vnto the powers aboue: she had respected
The Temple more to Iuno dedicate,
And had distempred lust in greater hate,
But she deuoted was vnto his shrine,
For carnall pleasures, not for hests diuine.
What comfort can a beauteous maide conceaue
In contemplation, since the practike part
Better accords with her, and she doth craue
A soueraigne salue to cure her wounded heart,
Which cannot be perform'd by men of art,
For learned Sophisters may reason well,
But what will please your sexe they cannot tell.
36

Thus therefore praise I, and yet discommend,
This harsh, yet sober kinde of speculation,
That frames her engine to a fruitlesse end,
About heauens motion and Sphæres eleuation,
Yet cannot make her vse of recreation:
VVherefore it's fruitlesse, and a barraine seede
That loues to grow alone, and hates to breede.
Renoumed ladie, least I wrong your eares
VVith the distastfull temper of my pen,
My muse her selfe from further course forbeares,
To shadow out your vertues to such men,
As liue obscured in obliuions den.
This therefore I haue writ to blase your name,
And not through hate for to ecclips the same.
Sooner shall Phæbus leaue his iuorie carre,
And giue his regiment to Phaeton:
Sooner shall Mars that powerfull god of warre
Retire in peace, and loue to lie alone:
Sooner shall Sysiphus to rowle his stone
Surcease, then I surcease to empall your daies
VVith poets wreaths, the laurell and the baies.
37

To Dorinda, successiue Nuptials.

Et quis me retulit laurea dignum,
Qui nequeo digna laude Dorindam
euehere ad astra? &c.
in eleg. lib. 3.

Purest Nimph that Hyble bred,
With Ambrosia nourished,
Beauties glorie, natures mirror,
Heauens blest Trophie, worldes terror,
Nature made thee and thy feature
As it seemes to put downe nature,
Most admit'd, when most deiected,
Humble most, when most erected.
Ladie Flora with her beautie,
Tenders thee her vigin duetie:
Hymen too, doth chaplets carrie
To adorne him thou doest marrie:
Gods of all sorts haue descended,
And their bounties haue extended,
Some with roses mix'd full sweetely,
Some with spikenard came to greete thee.
38

Nere was marriage day so graced,
Since by Hymen all are placed,
As sweete flowers set in a border,
Gods and goddesses in order,
There sits Ioue with Iuno Queene,
Here Diana clad in greene,
Here god Mars that heroe stout,
Here crabd Vulcanes limping foote.
Here sat Venus smouth as doune
In a purple veluet goune:
There Minerua whose deseruing
Had a laurell for her learning:
Here aboue their heads did flie,
With winged speed God Mercurie:
Æolus at last did come,
But for winde there was no roome.
Neptune from his liquid cell,
Bad the seas and stormes farewell:
Nereus no more would swimme
In his streames, but follow'd him:
Thus all meeting, ioy appeared,
Well with wine their hearts were cheered,
Till their wine to sleepe resolued,
Made these Nuptials be dissolued.
Helicons poore inhabitant
39

Astræas farewell to Dorinda.

Farewell Dorinda, we must now no more
Talke of our maiden pleasures we haue had,
Nor sit along vpon the siluer shore,
Sighing and puling, calling on that lad,
That purblinde Cupid, that did wound vs sore:
Which made vs pensiue, so perplext and sad,
That we with solemne protestations swore
To be reueng'd: that he himselfe might know,
Though he could shoote, yet we could breake his bow.
How oft and many times haue we two walk'd
In that same flourie Mede, which doth adioine
Thy fathers house, and haue securely talk'd?
Where hauing nought to doe, we vs'd to proine
The poppie braunches, which did then exalt,
Their tops too high: where we would straight combine
Those blossoms we had cropt laying together,
Our heapes in one which had bene lopt by either.
But now that vernant spring is past and gon,
And dismall winter with his hoarie brow
Sits on my cheeke, that thus am left alone:
That Stem shows withred leaues, that erst did show,
Fruites that deserued to be look'd vpon,
Which barrennes was first procur'd by you,
But ile not blame you: you haue lost your mate,
But you haue changed for a better state.
40

Haue me commended vnto Hymens bower,
Tell him I wish he would come visit me,
And if I doe resist his sacred power
Let me of after ioyes excluded be:
Too long I feare I keepe a mellow flower,
Which once thou had'st, but now is gone frō thee,
Beleeue me sweete Dorinda, I diuine,
Ere many daies my state must answer thine.
Which if it doe, our former thoughts of loue,
So well repressed in so equall bounds,
VVe once shall make repaire vnto that groue
Where pensiue passions first receiu'd their groūds,
And make a foole of that same Ape of loue
By whom we once endured manie wounds:
But now preseru'd, redeem'd, enioying either,
Admire our equall states, enuied of neither.

To Eliza, a pastorall Hymne.

------ Et ortum referre iuuat:
Inclitæ domus alta trophæa petit,
Non minus genere preripiens decus,
quam forma nitida laudes dispergens suas.
ibid.

Mounseur de Tygres, man of great estate,
Had but one daughter, whom he did esteeme:
41

Whose front confronting beautie, Vesta sate,
And all those graces which we gracious deeme,
Then which a rarer sight was neuer seene,
Since beautie lost her beautie and decaied
In Idas mount: as I haue heard it said.
Her haire like Phæbus raies disparcling gould,
Sent such a lustre where she passed by,
That some haue thought as I haue heard it told,
Faire Cytheræas traine approched nie:
Such was the vertue of her piercing eie,
And some that dwelt neere to Elysa saie,
The nights she walk'd on seem'd as light as day.
Many poore swaines would nose gaies sweet cōpose
Of eglantine, the dasie, and the dill,
Which they did consecrate: and she would choose
Some flower among the rest which she kept still
In her ambrosian bosome, where an hill
Of sweeter flowers and branches seem'd to be,
Then any mount or groue in Hesperie.
Yet of this beautie nature had bestow'd,
She was not proud, but of that humble straine,
As by her modest blush more faire she show'd,
Then to be courted by a countrie swaine,
Of farre more worth then pastures could containe:
For she was faire, so faire and full of fauour,
As Pan the shephard-god made sute to haue her.
42

But Pans tann'd skinne pand not with her smoth downe,
She better seem'd to be Apolloes Queene,
The seedes of vertue were so fully growen
Vertue her selfe might take her for her theame:
Deriued sure from some celestiall streame:
For such a streame distreamd frō her pure minde
Of gracious gifts, that like it's hard to finde.
This beauties mirror grac'd with such a feature,
Had a more lustre, then that countrie swaine,
Or any rurall hogge or homebred creature,
Could hope by their deserts ere to attaine,
Such precious Iewels must be got by paine,
Where euery tripping Satyre can supplie
A decent measure in loues symmetrie.
This gracious Queene fram'd for a higher court,
VVas by a poet suted: but his pen
Seem'd too too rude for her, whose spread report
Had driuen an admiration in all men,
And sacred wood-gods that suruiued then,
VVherefore (as coy) this poet she did scorne,
And eke the wreath which did his head adorne.
Shall I (quoth she) a rithmer entertaine,
A comicke iester to my Nuptiall bed,
The harsh-discordant tunes of euery swaine,
To be with ends of poems nourished,
Or with a vaine phantastique humor fed?
43

O no, I cannot brooke the laurell wreath,
Or marrie such as loue to sell their breath.
I am not borne of that deiected stemme,
Nor haue I my beginning from that roote,
That I should match my selfe with worthlesse men,
Or in a bed of poems set my foote,
VVhere loue enuiron'd is with feare and doubt,
Prophets and poets they can write and sing,
But women they affect another thing.
It is not laies sung in Dianas groue,
Nor of Astræas beautie can procure,
The height of our affection or our loue:
Nor can our sweete respect with them endure,
VVho liue as if they were of loue secure.
Maids are not pleas'd with fruitlesse contemplatiō
But leaues the knowledge, loues their recreation.
This my position is, nor will I yeelde
Vnto the fickle iudgement of the vaine,
Who seeke to winne me, yet must lose the field:
That labour's lost which doth produce no gaine:
Nere can I loue a poets wanton straine,
For this I finde, they that of loue write best,
In actions of true loue can doe the least.
Mounseur de Tygres hearing what she said,
VVas well content, for he no poet lou'd:
44

And therefore (as it seem'd full of delaied
Th' effecting of their loues at first approu'd,
VVhich by some accident at last remou'd:
And therefore in all hast tooke hold of time,
Belike for to extract his daughters line.
This thus resolu'd (for she was well resolu'd)
Mounseur de Tygres did a contract make
With young Gastylio: who in nets inuolu'd
Part for himselfe, and partly for her sake,
In weale and woe his mistris state partakes:
As it was fit, for fitting it should be,
That man and wife haue one communitie.
Both did adore one Idole, both repair'd
Vnto one Saint; set in a gorgeous shrine,
With Pomane pompe lest it should be impair'd,
Talking of rites, they cal'd them most diuine:
Whose columns framed loosing wise did shine
With burning Tapers on their Altars hung:
Vnder the staires whereof the Flamines sung.
And least I should defraud you of that state
Which so transparently appear'd to all
In those solemnis'd rites, Ile explicate,
How, when, and where, these mariage hests befell:
Which thus in briefe I doe intend to tell:
That you may show in after-times to come,
No rites more solemne then the rites of Rome.
45

Si nec amare licet, licuit cantare Poteæ:
Si non authorem diligis, acta legas.

Elizaes mariage day with all Romane celebritie solemnised: with the Muses salutes, and Graces seuerall gifts.

Sic mea Romano cecinisse camæna cothurno
Gaudeat, et Ueneris pignora chara suæ.

Elizaes nuptialls so long expected,
Now were approaching, where in solemne sort
Each thing was plast, as if th' æthereall court
Whose diamantine walls the Gods protected
Had been there present: for all was effected
With such respect, as same would come far short
In her relation: yet I meane to shew
Th' Epitome of this great worke to yow,
A curious Table made of citre wood,
Spred ore with tissue, well imbrodered,
With store of dainty cates replenished,
Where on a row the sacred Muses stood
Singing a song of Hebe deifide,
Was there drawen forth. Next that there seemd a flood,
Of faire Sea-nimphs, for Nimphs they seemd to be
Bathing their milke white skins deliciously.
46

They sung a song of Neptune to the shore,
The shore resounding with a sweet consent:
The like whereof was sildome heard before,
That Nimphs, whose glory is most eminent,
Should deigne to grace with their diuiner power
The feasts of mortall men: base continent
For such blest feet to walke on: yet they came
From sea to earth to spread Elizaes name.
Next those, admired graces tooke their place,
Richly enthroned as their worth deserued:
With eies reflected on Elizaes face,
As if loue sicke, for so the most obserued:
Wishing (vaine wish) she were their fellow grace
For now she was no fellow: for they serued
In all subiection to her, and would take
Tasks ill befitting graces for her sake.
Ile giue thee (quoth Thalia) vtterance
A hony dropping tongue which shall dissolue
The marble hearts of men: sweet eloquence
Whose powerfull vertue shall each doubt resolue
And match thy beauty with the excellence
Of diuine beauty: what thou shalt reuolue
In thy close brest shall be performd by thee,
Making thee honord for a deity.
Ile giue thee (quoth Aglaia) pure inuention
To passe the spheres with apprehensiue wings
47

Crowning the issue of thy blest intention
With wreaths more glorious then victorious kings
Or Heroes ere receau'd, quicke apprehension
Shall blesse thy memory with the happiest things
Th' auspicious hand of Fortune can procure:
For whom the graces grace, must needs be sure.
And I will giue (said graue Euphrosiue)
The poise of nature iudgement to approue
Or disaproue as it best liketh thee,
To iudge twixt hate and mind attractiue loue:
The sagest braine deriues her wit from me,
Rapt with the infusion of the powers aboue:
Thus shalt thou be adornd with graces feature,
To make thee heauenly of an earthly creature,
Thus made a goddesse by the sacred powers,
Whose glorious scepters sway the ocean,
And this same massie frame this earth of yours,
With all the beauty of your little man:
Wherein at first vertues pure springs began
With pearly drops of soule-bedewing showers:
To rinse our Errors: so distained now
As he that made her, hardly can her know.
Thus, thus, eternisd (for eternity
Waits on the Graces) she with modest smile,
And shame fast blush, framed this short reply
As sweet as short couch'd in a comely stile;
48

Much doth Eliza thanke your deity
That you would deigne times minutes to beguile
In such an homely cell: a cell indeed,
For such as you that spring from heauenly seed.
O you diuine and glorious Quiristers,
That sing sweet Hymns in heau'ns high Hierarchy,
You who are made the Angells ministers,
Filling their hearts with gladsome harmony.
Of happy tidings blessed messengers,
Infused by the power of sacred Deity.
You sweet Organs that are consecrate
To heauens blest Nuptialls, blesse my nuptiall state.
You are the nectar riuers that diffuse
Their well distreaming currents ore the earth
So as no mount nor humble vale can chuse
But to be fruitfull. Your thrice glorious birth
Inspir'd pure knowledge in the Cadmian Muse,
Making her fill the earth and Sea with mirth.
Thrice blessed ofspring of so blest a sire
Whom plants, springs, groues, & all the gods desire.
If to the sea I turne, loe you are there,
Mouing the Syrens with your warbling voice,
If to the mountaines, likewise you appeare,
Making the rocks re-eccho with your noise:
If to the fertile plaines, I likewise heare
You prety musicke in the shepheards voice.
49

Thus Sea, rock, mountaine, and each flowry plaine
If you begin will answer you againe.
If Philomela with her wofull note
Weauing a pricking bramble to her brest,
Retire in secret to deplore her lot,
Crying on Progue whom she loued best
With trickling teares, not hauing yet forgot
Who gaue reuenge to that incestuous beast,
Adulterate Tereus: if that you come by
Will leaue sad odes and chirpe more cheerfully.
And reason good your heauenly influence
Giues a sweet tutch vnto th' Amyclean lyre,
Makes her stay riuers by her eminence,
Diuert the nature of aspiring fire,
Moue shady woods to change their residence,
Mountaines declining, vales ascending higher.
Shewing far more then mortall powers could shew
Drawing beginning and their end from you.
Then gratious Graces, shower such streams of grace
Vpon th' ensuing progresse of my time,
That by the glorious lustre of your face
Such raies of vertue and respect may shine
In me, my issue, and succeeding race,
That all may blesse this happy state of mine.
Who to aduance the honor of our house
Brought from one stem so many vertuous.
50

It is not eloquence, Eliza craues,
That smels of gaine, and gaine is stale to shame,
Such mellow gifts the better sort depraues,
Loosing for corrupt breath a glorious name:
Fie on attractiue breaths that still receiue
Yet by receiuing doe augment their shame:
No, no, let vertue make me eloquent,
Vnstained vertue is most eminent.
Nor ist inuention doth Eliza please,
I leaue Archia that: our thoughts be pure,
To make our Fame renowmed, when the least
Of our expired lifes shall loose their power,
Getting that statue, after our decease
Which all deuouring time can nere deuoure,
The glorious name of vertue, which faire tombe
Shall mention vs in after times to come.
Ye graces three, how well would this white stole,
This precious Albe adorne Elizaes shrine?
Which no detraction nor reproch could soile,
But made eternall by the powers diuine,
An happy end of times laborious toile,
A blessed period to these daies of mine:
When for exchange of times mortality
Heauens were my due and heauens eternity.
Nor doe I care for iudgement, so I haue
So much as may discerne twixt earths delight
51

And those high ioies which ripest iudgement craue
Twixt Titans torch, and Thetis pitchie night:
So much as may my name from darknes saue,
To make her heire of that supernall light
Which the iudicious wish: that iudgements best
Where she directs her scope at sacred rest.
O (quoth Aglaia) nuptialls ill befit
Such vertuous spirits: we must haue you dance,
And leaue discourse of vertue, which will get
Pensiue distractions, though you talke perchance
Of vertue now, yet youl'e relinquish it:
Hymen who doth your fortunes thus aduance,
Will seem much grieued, if you should seem to be
Vertues defender in this Iubile.
VVhat colours best befit a mariage day?
Not sable, that pertends too blacke euent:
But brighter colours such as flowry May
Vsde to put on when Boreas seasons spent
And all the fields put on their rich aray,
Each odorous flower and blossome redolent.
VVhen the green mantle of the checkred earth
Seems to reuiew her fresh and cheerfull birth.
Such should thy vestments be (fairespotlesse queen)
And as the birds which pratle on each spray,
Telling their tales vnto the medowes green
Their loues, their likings by the breake of day,
52

Discoursing nought which might vnpleasant seem
But as true makes impatient of delay:
They wish (poor birds) each moment to approue
The happy fruits of their conceiued loue.
Now by the flowry pastures they send out
Their warbling voices: where their louely mates
With broad extended wing in hot pursuit
For their admired loues together waite,
Till by long search at last they find them out
Where they begin to enioy that happy state,
Happy to them (good birds) which long before
They did expect, but now expect no more.
Thus, thus, Eliza, shouldst thou solemnize
This glad arriuall of thy nuptiall state,
Since powers diuine be come to eternise
With happy presence thy succeeding fate
That all the glorious powers may memorise,
These festiue triumphs they haue seen of late.
Come, come, forbeare, put on Elizaes brow,
Aske but the Muses, they will tell thee how.
Euen as we see when cloudes are quite disperst,
And glittring beams send out their splendor bright
Or as when storms be past, whose fragor perst
The tender branches with their thunder light,
Or as the earth once pining now reuerst
Bringing her long concealed ioies to light
53

So did Eliza change her sable hue,
As if the graces formd her all anew.
Shee's for no straine of vertue, but delight
Plaies on her prety bosome: pensiue thoughts
As Hymens enemies be put to flight,
Fruits of more pleasure by this day are wrought
In the faire Tablet of her beauteous sight,
Then Ioue to Swan-like Leda euer brought,
For that was stolne curbd by a iealous eie,
But this was such as claimd free liberty.
No dirges now she sings, but hymns of ioy,
Mou'd with a priuate motiue of content:
No sorrow now, no anguish, nor annoy
Haue any power in her blest continent:
She talks of Venus, and the waggish boy,
And blames Adonis asking what he meant
He did not honor Venus beauty more,
But leese a mine of treasure for a Bore?
Out borish lad (quoth she) pitty it is,
Such a good face should haue so ill a wit,
That when th' art blest, dost not conceiue thy blisse
But seest a gem and yet respectst not it.
Children are pleasd with flowers: a fruitlesse kisse,
A smile, or so, such babies best befit:
Wherfore lest thou such flowrs shold seem to stain,
In fruitlesse grouth a flower thou dost remaine.
54

Thus was Eliza turnd: all on the flant,
Like Mirrhas daughter or Hermione,
Hauing in hope what really she wants,
Presaging comfort to posterity,
Concluding thus: mansions where Graces hant
Cannot deiected or surprised be
By times mutation: for no fatall hower
Can rase that fort, that's kept by diuine power.
And as we oft times see in summer time,
A shower of candide hailestones ratling downe,
Which makes the tops of touring okes decline,
The siluer banks of riuers ouerflowen,
Proining the tendrells of the lofty Pine,
With branchy cedars that are highest growen:
Where suddenly the sun sends out his beames,
VVhich quite dissolues the haile & stills the streams
So this faire beame of Titan thus diffus'd,
Into the amber border of her heart,
Which was before (poore wench) by her refus'd,
Now yeelds reliefe vnto her former smart,
Resuming sweet delights too long abus'd:
Each proper vertue flowes to euery part.
The tempest now is past, the sun appeares,
Which stops the source of all ensuing feares.
Then fit it were since that Elizas mind,
Is robed with nuptiall thoughts: the solemn night,
55

Should be portraid, her truest ioies assignd,
To helpe her former hope with hopes delight:
Descend a little lower: you shall find
The modell of chast loue decolord right:
Not sensuall affects which relish lust,
For lust's not loue: since loue is pure and iust.
The gloomy night, when labor takes his rest,
Birds take their pearch and sauage beasts their den,
The night when hoary cares cease to infest
With hote assault the silent sleeps of men:
That blessed night, these nuptialls made it blest
Confirmd her hopes by her approaching then.
For she addrest for pleasure doth vndresse,
Her selfe to reape more perfect happinesse.
Now euery muse had sung their last good night,
And had ascended vp Parnassus mount,
Wishing her as much ioy and sweet delight,
As ere they ioied, while bathing in the fount
Hight pure Castalia in Dianaes sight
And her attendants: Delia would accompt
Them far more happy then the princely Ioue,
For they were free but he was tost in loue.
The azure curtaines of the siluer heauen
Crauing their absence: now the ioifull bride
Had of her bride cake to the Muses giuen,
To the three Graces and the Nimphs beside,
56

All which attended her: but now the euen
Made them though willing longer to abide,
Dissolue their ranks Eliza left behind,
To find the intention of her husbands mind.
67

A description of the Morne.

Avrora sending out his tresses faire,
Garnishd the earth with his resumed light,
Bedewed moist with her impearled haire,
Deposed horned Luna queen of night,
And all the twinckling stars which did appeare
By Phæbus iuory coach are put to flight,
Thus doth the Sun dethrone the watry Moone
As high estates the lower do put downe.
Downe to the water doth the Moone descend,
There to repose till Sol had run his course,
Vp from the sea to earth doth Sol ascend
Seeming anew to renouate his force:
The Suns beginning giues the moone an end,
This leaueth worse for good, that good for worse.
This sends her lustre to th' Adriatique Seas,
That takes her place among th' Antipodes.
The pitchy vale of silent night thus drawen,
68

When labor rubs his eies and shakes of sloth,
Being vnto the lower regions gone,
Aurora represents these louers both,
To a faire tree, broad branchd that fruit brings none
Yet makes a shew of fruit as others doth.
Which he awaking sees, applies the ends
Vnto himselfe, whom thus he reprehends.

The pensiue thoughts of Gastilio, in Sapphycks.

Rouze vp thy spirit, (creature most inhumane)
Fix thy contentment on Elizaes beauty,
To which the wood gods tied are in duety.
Shame fall a coward.
How many Hero'es haue adored her Image,
Passing a torrent of approaching danger?
More then Alcides for a Deyanyra
Ere made aduenture.
Let Hymenæus who was euer present,
At thy solemnizd crisons be graced,
With an eternall monument of glory,
Leaue to be shame fast.
Shame may confound the shame to after ages,
To let a cheerfull virgin lie beside thee,
And yet do nothing: worst of ills betide thee:
Learne to be wanton.
Nature hath made then to her owne dishonor,
69

To loath that subiect which she first created,
To yeeld thee comfort shall her worke be hated,
By thee reiected?
Art thou composed of an humane substance,
Flesh, blood and sinewes, to refuse a pleasure,
Which far exceedeth store of earthly treasure.
Foole be more hardie.
See but the fishes, how one loue another,
Male with the female generates together,
What pure affection doth appeare in either,
Wonder of ages.
See the small Iuie, with her Iuy branches,
How she the poplar flowrishing imbraceth,
And as a spouse his spousall honors graceth,
So is she graced.
The sauage tygre, who frequents the mountaines,
Loues to be loued, is by loue subdued,
And with his louers presence is renewed.
Loue is a loadstone.
For as the loadstone doth attract his iron,
And with embraces shews his loue vnto it,
This faire resemblance shews as if he woed it.
Stones far exceed thee.
The liquid regions ioine their power together,
And those foure diuine elements adhering,
Seem as if all together were conspiring.
Equally mouing.
The crauling serpents in their kind coiting,
Viper to viper in their generation,
70

Shewes how dame nature in their propagation
Bred them for breeding
The birds that houer in the skie aboue vs,
Will (if thou marke them) to affection moue vs,
Males loue their females, so our femals love vs.
Mates would be mated.

A Threnode occasioned vpon the Authors discontent: in that he loues yet cannot be respected: with a continued Hymne or Acrosticke sonnet best sorting with his amorous passion.

Eternall anquish torment to my brest,
Languishing horror, euer scalding hote,
71

Imperious Queen that seeks thy loues vnrest,
Shaken with tempest in a crasie boate.
Anchor of comfort let me leane on thee,
So shall it well goe with my barke and me.
Beauties faire dasie, honor to thy maker,
Endu'd with natures faire admired treasure,
Throne of a goddesse, chastities partaker,
Helme to my ship, the onely port of pleasure.
Bles'd for thy feature and admired euer,
Alwaies abiding fresh, defaced neuer.

Sapphicke.

Rest to the vnrest, shadow of reposure,
To shade the weary from the parching sun shine,
O faire Eliza, blest is that enclosure,
Nature hath lent thee.
O deere remember but what solemne vowes,
What vowes, what protestations in that groue,
That groue, that graue which yeelds more pensiue shows
Vnto my teare swoln eies, then euer loue
Can make amends for: O remember me
And what pure hests I dedicate to thee.
Euen in that garden clad with bitter sweets,
For whatsoere was sweet, seem'd sowre to me,
With what faire words, what promises, entreates
Proceeded from my mouth to purchase thee.
Yet thou vnkind: (vnkindnesse is a sinne)
To loue that star-dazd Nimph, that loues nothin.
72

Perhaps some words (as vndiscreetly spoken,
As god wot simple soules do meane no harme)
Made your first bonds of fancy to be broken,
So as my folly might your wit forewarne,
Not to respect fond vowes which do proceed,
As idle talke from some phantasticke head.
O let me call your selfe to record here,
Whether such semblance of my feigned loue,
From time to time did euer yet appeare,
That you should your affection thus remoue?
O answer me deare loue, O be so kind
Whom you'l not loue to satisfie his mind.
O thou wilt say I neuer fancied thee,
I cared not for the place where thou abode,
I tooke no pleasure, no felicity
In thy discourse: loue where it is is shewd:
O argue not so roughly, for you know,
Of loue I neuer made externall show.
But if your image be not in my brest,
Which I will carry still in spite of fate:
Then let me neuer reape that sacred rest,
That mansion of delight, that glorious state.
O be more kind let that same loue I beare,
Vnto your selfe, more ioifull tidings heare.
Alasse how many weary toilesome nights,
73

Haue I tost to and fro, withouten rest?
Affrighted with such sad disaster sights,
As these short lines can no way make exprest:
And what's the cause I cannot rest, nor sleep?
Because thy beauty doth mine eie-lids keepe.
For when they would be shut thou keeps them ope,
Making them looke vpon thy image faire:
As if amazd to see that glorious cope
With which the Spheres of heauen may wel cōpare
And therefore puts mine eies to double paine,
In opening them, and shutting them againe.
Oft haue I dreamd, I did possesse my loue,
Rapt with a passion of a fond conceipt,
Close were my fences: none of all could moue
Their sencelesse numnes: but like seruants waite
In all obedience both with tooth and hand,
To heare what thou their mistres would cōmand
This golden slumber, slumber of delight,
For more content such slumbers yeelded me,
Then any food I tasted: or the sight
Of any obiect, saue the sight of thee:
Which slumber past and looking all about me
I was perplexd to lie alone without thee.
And yet no wanton or lasciuious thought,
Did euer moue me for to wantonise,
74

For though that shrine of thine was long time sought
It was that I thy shrine might eternise,
That so our loues eternisd both together,
What chanc'd vnto the one might chāce to either
But I am lauish in confounded loues,
And weaues a web for chast Penelope,
But two for Lais: Venus milke white doues,
Transport my erring sences; and agree
So to obscure the pallace of my soule,
That what was pure should now be passing foule.
Doe not beleeue such vipers as infest
With poisoned breath the glory of my name,
I vow to God that I haue lou'd thee best,
And haue been ere respectiue of my shame.
Let heauen and earth my mansion both remoue,
When I do soile thy bed with forraine loue.
O what vnfruitfull members were those spraies,
That nourishd Serpents in their flowry shade,
And fed our rooted loues with long delaies,
Vndoing that which nature first had made:
For this I thinke (if prophecies be true)
Nature ordained me to marry you.
Not nature but the diuine powers aboue,
Which manage our affections as they please,
Extracting out of hate the constant loue
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Their minds contracted in the bonds of peace.
Euen that same power (I thinke) doth so ordaine,
That though you hate, you once will loue againe.
The plants, the birds, the beasts, the fishes small,
Are made to loue: see how the Iuy twines
Vpon the ruines of a skaled wall,
Or twist's about the wasts of fruitfull vines:
Embracing them with branches spreading broad,
Supporting them when grapes their science load.
The louing Turtle loues her faithfull make,
Whom if she misse, she pines away and dies,
Abiuring mirth and pleasure for his sake
Filling the crispling aire with dolefull cries:
The stork, the Starling, and the sweet tun'd thrush
Wil seek their makes through euery brake & bush
The libbard, Tigre, Panther, beasts most wild,
Can be subdu'd by loues sweet harmony,
Transformd from sauage beasts to creatures mild,
Oppres'd (as seems) with loues extremity.
The cliuy mountaines, and the vales below,
By ecchoes shrill, their loues pursuit doe show.
The skalie fishes in their watry clime,
Tast of the fruit of loue, each in their kind,
Obseruing season, nature, course and time,
Such relish pleasures in loues passions find.
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That languishing they fall away and die,
When they'r depriu'd of loues society.
If euery creature thus ordained be,
For to obserue the solemne rites of loue:
Dost thou suppose she hath exempted thee,
No pensiue passions ere thy mind to moue?
O be not so deluded: deare you know,
You had a father, let your sonne say so.
What is a iewell worth, if euer kept,
Closely confind within the chest of earth?
No more is beauty, when occasion's slipt,
Gracing her Image with no second birth:
O let this after age thine Image find,
By some record which thou shalt leaue behind.
And what record? a specious issue left,
(Thy second image) to adorne the stage
Of this terrestriall frame of worth, bereft
If thou should die, surpris'd in blooming age:
O then since beauty is both green and tender,
It needs some for resse, to be her defender.
Let me that fortresse be, and ile support
Those freeborne blossomes of thy tender prime,
With thousand sugred kisses, and resort
With mirrh, and spikenard, daily to thy shrine,
This will I doe, more would I gladly doe,
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If thou my loue would for pure loue allow.
Take these few lines and keepe them still with thee
And reading them thinke now and then of me.

The poets legacie to his admired Eliza: deuoted and bequested to her chastest thoughts.

Thy once deer friend but now despis'd of thee,
Bequeaths vnto thy shrine, what ere is his:
His wreath and lawrell, which for poesie,
Was giuen by Clio: for that muse did wish,
Much good vnto thy louer: euen like blisse
Fall on thy sacred temples, beauteous queen,
In far more plenty then to fore was seen.
Next I bequeath, that little wit I had,
Small though it be, I haue entitled thine,
That in thy waiward dumps perlext and sad,
Some sparkling beames in thy conceipt may shine,
Which thou wilt laugh at: and will call them mine:
But I renounce them, writ they were by me,
But for no end saue this: to pleasure thee.
Then doe I giue, and in my gift bequeath,
All those externall Trophees which I had:
The motiue aier of my perswasiue breath
And that small pipe which vs'd to make swains glad,
And sauage Tigres in their fury mad.
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This straine of musicke Orpheus far surpast,
For mine by all the sisters nine was grac't.
This I bequeath vnto thy gentle tutch,
Tutch it sweet queen, and it will answer thee,
With far more musicke, yea with full asmuch
As old Arion with his harmony,
By mine, sweet Nimph, Dolphins shall carry thee
Sirens themselues, and Satires at command,
Shall bring thee safe vnto th' Elizian sand.
Some little gifts, as cheese cakes, chesnuts sweet,
With some oblations which I vow'd to Ioue,
Shall be deuoted to thy tripping feet,
That vsed to walke within the shady groue
Of Helicon and Ida mount of loue.
These little gifts did Mopsus offer mee,
And with like will I offer them to thee.
Two prety fragrant nose gaies did I send,
Made of sweet flowers, which twisted vp together,
Were giuen thee (as I wisht) from me thy friend,
That thought of one might make thee think of either
But thou too marble hearted minding neither.
Despis'd me and my gifts: which though but small
Yet they were great to me; for I gaue all.
Next I bequeath that earring which I had,
But now I haue not, for I vow its thine,
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And those short poems which my first age made,
That I may say something thou hast of mine,
For which though furies seeming to repine,
At such a blessing as my works possest,
Let them repine I care not I am blest.
I had the shrine of Venus in my chamber,
Which I resolud for to bequeath to thee,
With rosie locks and haire as pure as amber,
But there were some obiections hindred me,
Which was the cause I did not send it thee.
For though it was well colourd, yet it had,
For some parts good so many parts as bad.
The tincture of her face congeald in blood,
Seemd too too vgly, for thy gracious eie,
Her lips too great: her face too shamelesse showd:
All which foule crimes, thy iudgement would descry
(Thy piercing eies can priuat'st errors spie.)
For Venus seems no Venus but a swaine,
Some flub fac'd trull borne in the Thuscan plain.
Next I bequeath a picture vnto thee,
Which though lasciuious, yet beleeue me deere,
It is not halfe so wanton as was she,
Whose forme this sencelesse for me presented here,
As by her liuely actions may appeare.
It is that Myrrha beauties sacred mother,
Who being dead for beauty left another.
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Here may you see within your entire thoughts,
The maze of loue, and labyrinth of lust,
With what affecting meanes poore Mirrha sought
To voide incestuous pleasure, which she must
She must perforce sustaine: where she doth trust
Her mellow youth; which thus incircled, rather
Then she will keepe shee'll giue it to her father.
He spouse and father, she both child and wife,
He nipt with age, she with an icie pleasure,
Thus he triumphs in his incestuous life
Louing to gaze vpon forbidden treasure,
Locking her vp least he perchance should leese her.
Glad would she take a time for liberty,
But shee's kept in by fathers iealousie.
Thus in a spatious groue, an ample field,
May you (deere queen) cull flowers of euery kind,
First how a Nimph enforcd god wot to yeeld
(A willing force) th' affection of her mind,
Leauing the robe of chastity behind.
This picture I will send you, you may take,
This beauties statue for your beauties sake.
For had not Mirrha been, nor Mirrhaes youth
Youth had not flourisht in a Venus brow,
Nor had her beauty come to perfect growth,
Nor that sweet modest blush appeares in you,
Could represent so eminent a shew.
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Uenus from Mirrha tooke her first beginning
Mirrha from Cinyras incestuous sinning.
Thus haue I made my finall legacie,
And consecrated to your radiant beauty,
Though not consorting with your purity,
Yet am I so deuoted in all duety
That I could wish my poems so should suit thee.
That with such passiōs they in fine might moue thee
As reading these, these might enforce thee loue me.
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FINIS.
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