 | The Second Part of Hero and Leander |  |
To the Right worshipfull sir Henrie Guilford Knight, H. P. vvisheth all encrease of worship, and endlesse Felicitie.
HERO and LEANDERS further Fortunes.
When young Apollo heauens sacred beautie,
Gan on his siluer harpe with reuerent dutie,
To blazen foorth the faire of Tellus wonder,
Whose faire, all other faires brought subiect vnder:
Heauen gan to frowne at earthes fragilitie,
Made proude with such adored Maiestie.
Hero the faire, so doe I name this faire,
With whome immortall faires might not compare,
Such was her beautie fram'd in heauens scorne,
Her spotles faire caus'd other faires to mourne:
Heauen frown'd, Earth sham'd, that none so faire as she,
Base borne of earth in heauen might equall be.
Fell moodie Venus pale with fretting ire,
Aye mee (quoth she) for want of her desire,
Earthes basest mould, fram'd of the baser dust,
Strumpet to filth, bawde to loathed lust:
Worse then Mædea's charmes, are thy inticements,
Worse then the Mermaides songs, are thy allurements.
Worse then the snakie hag [illeg.]
To mortall soules is thy inueagling beautie:
Thus, she exclaimes gainst harmeles. Hero's faire,
And would the Gods consent, her dangling haire,
Wherewith the busie ayre doth often play,
(As wanton birdes vpon a Sunne-shine day.)
Should be transform'd to snakes all vgly blacke,
To be a meanes of her eternall wracke.
But wanton Ioue sweete beauties fauorite,
Demaunds of beautie beauties worthy merite:
Yf beauties guerdon merit paine (quoth he,)
Your faire deserues no lesse as faire as she,
Then moodie Iuno frowning gan replie
Ile want my will, but strumpet she shall die.
Iuno (quoth he) we ought not tyrannize,
On such (saide she) as you doe wantonnize.
But since our continent the scope of Heauen,
Containes her not, vnlesse from earth beryuen,
Ile make a transformation of her hue,
And force the hautie Mother earth to rue:
That her base wombe dare yeilde such bastard faires.
That Ioue must seeke on earth immortall heires.
Ile cause a second desperat Phaæton,
To rule the fierie Charriot of the Sunne:
That topsie turuie Heauen and Earth may turne,
That Heauen, Earth, Sea, and Hell may endlesse burne.
Stay head-strong goddesse Ioue to Iuno sayde,
Can you doe this without your husbands ayde?
With that she gan intreate it might be so,
But Ioue would not sweete beautie ouerthrow:
But this he graunted Iuno, that Apollo
Should neuer more extoll the faire of Hero.
His censure past the irefull Queene doth hie,
To set a period to his harmony.
From foorth his yeilding armes she soone bereaues
Apollo's Lute, whom comfortlesse she leaues,
Making a Thousand parts of two gould stringes,
Into obliuions Cell the same she flinges.
Quicke sighted spirits, this suppos'd Apollo,
Conceit no other, but th' admired Marlo:
Marlo admir'd, whose honney flowing vaine,
No English writer can as yet attaine.
Whose name in Fames immortall treasurie,
Truth shall record to endles memorie,
Marlo late mortall, now fram'd all diuine,
What soule more: happy, then that soule of thine?
Liue still in heauen thy soule, thy fame on earth,
(Thou dead) of Marlo's Hero findes a dearth.
Weepe aged Tellus, all earth on earth complaine,
Thy chiefe borne faire, hath lost her faire againe:
Her faire in this is lost, that Marlo's want,
Inforceth Hero's faire be wonderous scant.
Oh had that King of poets breathed longer,
Then had faire beauties sort been much more stronger:
His goulden pen had clos'd her so about,
No bastard Æglets quit the world throughout,
Had been of force to marre what he had made,
For why they were not expert in that trade:
What mortall soule with Marlo might contend,
That could gainst reason force him stoope or bend?
Whose siluer charming toung, mou'd such delight,
That men would shun their sleepe in still darke night.
To meditate vpon his goulden lynes,
His rare conceyts and sweete according rimes.
But Marlo still admired Marlo's gon,
To liue with beautie in Elyzium,
Immortall beautie, who desires to heare,
His sacred Poesies sweete in euery eare:
Marlo must frame to Orpheus melodie,
Himnes all diuine to make heauen harmonie.
There euer liue the Prince of Poetrie,
Liue with the liuing in eternitie.
Apollo's Lute bereau'd of siluer string,
Fond Mercury doth harshly gin to sing.
A counterfeit vnto his honney note,
But I doe feare he'le chatter it by rote:
Yet if his ill according voice be such,
That (hearing part) you thinke you heare too much
Beare with his rashnes and he will amende,
His follie blame, but his good will commend
Yet rather discommend what I intreate,
For if you like it, some wil storme and fret.
And then insulting Ægles soaring hie,
Will pray vpon the sillie harmeles flie:
(Nil refert) for Ile pawne my better part,
Ere sweete fac't beautie loose her due desart.
Gan on his siluer harpe with reuerent dutie,
To blazen foorth the faire of Tellus wonder,
Whose faire, all other faires brought subiect vnder:
Heauen gan to frowne at earthes fragilitie,
Made proude with such adored Maiestie.
Hero the faire, so doe I name this faire,
With whome immortall faires might not compare,
Such was her beautie fram'd in heauens scorne,
Her spotles faire caus'd other faires to mourne:
Heauen frown'd, Earth sham'd, that none so faire as she,
Base borne of earth in heauen might equall be.
Fell moodie Venus pale with fretting ire,
Aye mee (quoth she) for want of her desire,
Earthes basest mould, fram'd of the baser dust,
Strumpet to filth, bawde to loathed lust:
Worse then Mædea's charmes, are thy inticements,
Worse then the Mermaides songs, are thy allurements.
Worse then the snakie hag [illeg.]
To mortall soules is thy inueagling beautie:
And would the Gods consent, her dangling haire,
Wherewith the busie ayre doth often play,
(As wanton birdes vpon a Sunne-shine day.)
Should be transform'd to snakes all vgly blacke,
To be a meanes of her eternall wracke.
But wanton Ioue sweete beauties fauorite,
Demaunds of beautie beauties worthy merite:
Yf beauties guerdon merit paine (quoth he,)
Your faire deserues no lesse as faire as she,
Then moodie Iuno frowning gan replie
Ile want my will, but strumpet she shall die.
Iuno (quoth he) we ought not tyrannize,
On such (saide she) as you doe wantonnize.
But since our continent the scope of Heauen,
Containes her not, vnlesse from earth beryuen,
Ile make a transformation of her hue,
And force the hautie Mother earth to rue:
That her base wombe dare yeilde such bastard faires.
That Ioue must seeke on earth immortall heires.
Ile cause a second desperat Phaæton,
To rule the fierie Charriot of the Sunne:
That topsie turuie Heauen and Earth may turne,
That Heauen, Earth, Sea, and Hell may endlesse burne.
Stay head-strong goddesse Ioue to Iuno sayde,
Can you doe this without your husbands ayde?
With that she gan intreate it might be so,
But Ioue would not sweete beautie ouerthrow:
But this he graunted Iuno, that Apollo
Should neuer more extoll the faire of Hero.
To set a period to his harmony.
From foorth his yeilding armes she soone bereaues
Apollo's Lute, whom comfortlesse she leaues,
Making a Thousand parts of two gould stringes,
Into obliuions Cell the same she flinges.
Quicke sighted spirits, this suppos'd Apollo,
Conceit no other, but th' admired Marlo:
Marlo admir'd, whose honney flowing vaine,
No English writer can as yet attaine.
Whose name in Fames immortall treasurie,
Truth shall record to endles memorie,
Marlo late mortall, now fram'd all diuine,
What soule more: happy, then that soule of thine?
Liue still in heauen thy soule, thy fame on earth,
(Thou dead) of Marlo's Hero findes a dearth.
Weepe aged Tellus, all earth on earth complaine,
Thy chiefe borne faire, hath lost her faire againe:
Her faire in this is lost, that Marlo's want,
Inforceth Hero's faire be wonderous scant.
Oh had that King of poets breathed longer,
Then had faire beauties sort been much more stronger:
His goulden pen had clos'd her so about,
No bastard Æglets quit the world throughout,
Had been of force to marre what he had made,
For why they were not expert in that trade:
What mortall soule with Marlo might contend,
That could gainst reason force him stoope or bend?
Whose siluer charming toung, mou'd such delight,
That men would shun their sleepe in still darke night.
His rare conceyts and sweete according rimes.
But Marlo still admired Marlo's gon,
To liue with beautie in Elyzium,
Immortall beautie, who desires to heare,
His sacred Poesies sweete in euery eare:
Marlo must frame to Orpheus melodie,
Himnes all diuine to make heauen harmonie.
There euer liue the Prince of Poetrie,
Liue with the liuing in eternitie.
Apollo's Lute bereau'd of siluer string,
Fond Mercury doth harshly gin to sing.
A counterfeit vnto his honney note,
But I doe feare he'le chatter it by rote:
Yet if his ill according voice be such,
That (hearing part) you thinke you heare too much
Beare with his rashnes and he will amende,
His follie blame, but his good will commend
Yet rather discommend what I intreate,
For if you like it, some wil storme and fret.
And then insulting Ægles soaring hie,
Will pray vpon the sillie harmeles flie:
(Nil refert) for Ile pawne my better part,
Ere sweete fac't beautie loose her due desart.
Auaunt base Steele where shrill tong'd siluer rings,
The chatt'ring Pie may range when black-birdes sings:
Birdes blacke as Iet with sweete according voices,
Like to Elyziums Saincts with heauenly noises.
Why should harsh Mercury recount againe,
What sweet Apollo (liuing) did maintaine?
Which was of Hero her all pleasing faire,
Her prettie browes, her lip, her amber haire,
Her roseat cheeke her lillie fingers white,
Her sparkling eyes that lend the day his light:
What should I say, her all in all he praysed,
Wherewith the spacious world was much amazed.
Leanders loue, and louers sweetest pleasure,
He wrought a full discourse of beauties treasure:
And left me nothing pleasing to recite,
But of vnconstant chance, and fortunes spight
Then in this glasse view beauties frayltie,
Faire Hero, and Leanders miserie.
The chatt'ring Pie may range when black-birdes sings:
Birdes blacke as Iet with sweete according voices,
Like to Elyziums Saincts with heauenly noises.
Why should harsh Mercury recount againe,
What sweet Apollo (liuing) did maintaine?
Her prettie browes, her lip, her amber haire,
Her roseat cheeke her lillie fingers white,
Her sparkling eyes that lend the day his light:
What should I say, her all in all he praysed,
Wherewith the spacious world was much amazed.
Leanders loue, and louers sweetest pleasure,
He wrought a full discourse of beauties treasure:
And left me nothing pleasing to recite,
But of vnconstant chance, and fortunes spight
Then in this glasse view beauties frayltie,
Faire Hero, and Leanders miserie.
The virgin Princesse of the westerne Ile,
Faire Cambarina of the goulden soile,
And yet not faire, but of a swartie hew,
For by her gould, her beautie did renew:
Renew as thus, that hauing gould to spare,
Men helde it dutie to protest and sweare,
Her faire was such, as all the world admir'd it,
Her blushing beautie such, all men desir'd it.
The scornefull Queene made proude with fained praises,
Her black-fram'd soule, to a hier rate she raises:
That men bewitched with her gould, not beautie,
A Thousand Knights as homage proffer dutie,
Yf such a base deformed lumpe of clay,
In whome no sweete content had any stay,
No pleasure residence, no sweet delight,
Shelter from heate of day, or cold of night:
Yf such a she so many sutors had,
Hero whose angrie frownes made heauen sad:
Hero whose gaze gracing darke Plutos cell,
Pluto would deeme Phœbus came there to dwell.
Hero whose eyes heauens fierie tapors staine,
Hero whose beautie makes night day againe,
How much more loue merits so sweet a Queene,
Whose like no out-worne world hath euer seene.
Of sweete Leanders loue, to Hero's beautie,
Heauen, Earth, and Hell, and all the world is guiltie,
Of Hero's kindnes, to her trustie Phere,
By lost Apollo's tale it doth appere,
Recorded in the Register of Fame,
The workes of Marlo doe expresse the same.
But ere he gan of fickle chance to tell,
How bad chance gainst the Better did rebell:
When loue in loues sweet garden newly planted,
Remorcefull Hero to Leander graunted,
Free libertie, to yeild the world increase,
Vnconstant Fortune foe to harmeles peace:
Playde such vnruly prancks in loues despight,
That loue was forced from his true-loues sight.
Faire Cambarina of the goulden soile,
And yet not faire, but of a swartie hew,
For by her gould, her beautie did renew:
Renew as thus, that hauing gould to spare,
Men helde it dutie to protest and sweare,
Her faire was such, as all the world admir'd it,
Her blushing beautie such, all men desir'd it.
The scornefull Queene made proude with fained praises,
Her black-fram'd soule, to a hier rate she raises:
That men bewitched with her gould, not beautie,
A Thousand Knights as homage proffer dutie,
In whome no sweete content had any stay,
No pleasure residence, no sweet delight,
Shelter from heate of day, or cold of night:
Yf such a she so many sutors had,
Hero whose angrie frownes made heauen sad:
Hero whose gaze gracing darke Plutos cell,
Pluto would deeme Phœbus came there to dwell.
Hero whose eyes heauens fierie tapors staine,
Hero whose beautie makes night day againe,
How much more loue merits so sweet a Queene,
Whose like no out-worne world hath euer seene.
Of sweete Leanders loue, to Hero's beautie,
Heauen, Earth, and Hell, and all the world is guiltie,
Of Hero's kindnes, to her trustie Phere,
By lost Apollo's tale it doth appere,
Recorded in the Register of Fame,
The workes of Marlo doe expresse the same.
But ere he gan of fickle chance to tell,
How bad chance gainst the Better did rebell:
When loue in loues sweet garden newly planted,
Remorcefull Hero to Leander graunted,
Free libertie, to yeild the world increase,
Vnconstant Fortune foe to harmeles peace:
Playde such vnruly prancks in loues despight,
That loue was forced from his true-loues sight.
Dvke
Archilaus cruell, voyd of pitie,
Where Hero dwelt was regent of that Citie:
Woe worth that towne where bloody homicides,
And Tyrants are elected cities guides.
Woe woorth that countrey where vnlawfull lust,
Sitts in a Regall throne, of force it must
Downe to the low layde bowells of the earth,
Like to a still borne Childes vntimely byrth:
Duke Archilaus lou'd; but whome lou'd he?
He courted Hero, but it would not be.
Why should he plant where other Knights haue sowen,
The land is his, therefore the fruit his owne,
Must it be thus, alas it is not so,
Lust may not force true-louers ouerthrow.
Lust hath no limits, lust will haue his will,
Like to a rauening wolfe that's bent to kill,
The Duke affecting her that was belou'd,
(Hero whose firme fixt loue Leander prou'd,)
Gaue on-set to the still resisting fort,
But fearefull hate set period to his sport.
Lust egg'd him on to further his desire,
But fell disdaine inforc't him to retire.
When Archilaus sawe that thundering threates
Could not preuaile, he mildly then intreates.
But all in vaine, the Doo had choose her make,
And whome she tooke, she neuer would forsake,
The Doo's sweet Deere, this hunter seekes to chace,
Harmeles Leander whose all smiling face
Grac't with vnspotted faire to all mens sight,
Would force the houndes retire, and not to bite:
Which when the Duke perceau'd, an other curre,
Was forced from his den, that made much sturre,
And treason he was nam'd, which helde so fast,
That feares swift winges did lend some ayde at last.
For force perforce Leander must depart
From Sestos, yet behind he left his hart.
His hart in Hero's brest, Leander left,
Leanders absence, Heroes ioyes bereft:
Leanders want, the cruell Duke thought sure
Some ease to discontent would soone procure.
Leander hauing heard his wofull doome,
Towards his weeping Lady he doth come,
Dewing her cheekes with his distilling teares,
Which Hero dryeth with her dangling haires:
They weeping greete each other with sweete kisses,
(Kindly imbracing) thus they gan their wishes.
Oh that these foulding armes might nere vndoe;
As she desir'd: so wisht Leander too:
Then with her hand, she toucht his sacred brest,
Where in his bosome she desires to rest.
Like to a snake she clung vnto him fast,
And wound about him, which snatcht-vp in hast,
By the Prince of birdes, borne lightly vp aloft,
Doth wrythe her selfe about his necke, and oft
About his winges displayed in the winde,
Or like as Iuie on trees cling bout the rinde:
Or as the Crab fish hauing caught in seas
His enemies, doth claspe him with his cleas.
So ioynd in one, these two together stood,
Euen as Hermophrodirus in the flood:
Vntill the Duke did bannish him away,
Then gan Leander to his Hero say.
(Let me goe where the Sunne doth parch the greene,
In temperate heate, where he is felt and seene:
Or where his beames doe not dissolue the ice,
In presence prest, of people mad or wise.
Set mee in high, or else in low degree,
In clearest skie, or where clowdes thickest bee,
In longest night, or in the shortest day,
In lustie youth, or when my haires be gray:
Goe I to heauen, to earth, or else to hell,
Thrall or at large, aliue where so I dwell,
On hill or dale, or on the foaming flood,
Sicke or in health, in euill fame or good:
Thine will I be, and onely with this thought,
Content thy selfe: although my chance be naught.)
Thus parted these two louers full of woes,
She staies behinde, on pilgrimage he goes.
Leaue we a while, Leander wandring Knight,
To Delphos taking his all speedie flight,
That by the Oracle of Apollo,
His further Fortunes he may truely knowe.
Where Hero dwelt was regent of that Citie:
Woe worth that towne where bloody homicides,
And Tyrants are elected cities guides.
Sitts in a Regall throne, of force it must
Downe to the low layde bowells of the earth,
Like to a still borne Childes vntimely byrth:
Duke Archilaus lou'd; but whome lou'd he?
He courted Hero, but it would not be.
Why should he plant where other Knights haue sowen,
The land is his, therefore the fruit his owne,
Must it be thus, alas it is not so,
Lust may not force true-louers ouerthrow.
Lust hath no limits, lust will haue his will,
Like to a rauening wolfe that's bent to kill,
The Duke affecting her that was belou'd,
(Hero whose firme fixt loue Leander prou'd,)
Gaue on-set to the still resisting fort,
But fearefull hate set period to his sport.
Lust egg'd him on to further his desire,
But fell disdaine inforc't him to retire.
When Archilaus sawe that thundering threates
Could not preuaile, he mildly then intreates.
But all in vaine, the Doo had choose her make,
And whome she tooke, she neuer would forsake,
The Doo's sweet Deere, this hunter seekes to chace,
Harmeles Leander whose all smiling face
Grac't with vnspotted faire to all mens sight,
Would force the houndes retire, and not to bite:
Which when the Duke perceau'd, an other curre,
Was forced from his den, that made much sturre,
And treason he was nam'd, which helde so fast,
That feares swift winges did lend some ayde at last.
From Sestos, yet behind he left his hart.
His hart in Hero's brest, Leander left,
Leanders absence, Heroes ioyes bereft:
Leanders want, the cruell Duke thought sure
Some ease to discontent would soone procure.
Leander hauing heard his wofull doome,
Towards his weeping Lady he doth come,
Dewing her cheekes with his distilling teares,
Which Hero dryeth with her dangling haires:
They weeping greete each other with sweete kisses,
(Kindly imbracing) thus they gan their wishes.
Oh that these foulding armes might nere vndoe;
As she desir'd: so wisht Leander too:
Then with her hand, she toucht his sacred brest,
Where in his bosome she desires to rest.
Like to a snake she clung vnto him fast,
And wound about him, which snatcht-vp in hast,
By the Prince of birdes, borne lightly vp aloft,
Doth wrythe her selfe about his necke, and oft
About his winges displayed in the winde,
Or like as Iuie on trees cling bout the rinde:
Or as the Crab fish hauing caught in seas
His enemies, doth claspe him with his cleas.
So ioynd in one, these two together stood,
Euen as Hermophrodirus in the flood:
Vntill the Duke did bannish him away,
Then gan Leander to his Hero say.
(Let me goe where the Sunne doth parch the greene,
In temperate heate, where he is felt and seene:
In presence prest, of people mad or wise.
Set mee in high, or else in low degree,
In clearest skie, or where clowdes thickest bee,
In longest night, or in the shortest day,
In lustie youth, or when my haires be gray:
Goe I to heauen, to earth, or else to hell,
Thrall or at large, aliue where so I dwell,
On hill or dale, or on the foaming flood,
Sicke or in health, in euill fame or good:
Thine will I be, and onely with this thought,
Content thy selfe: although my chance be naught.)
Thus parted these two louers full of woes,
She staies behinde, on pilgrimage he goes.
Leaue we a while, Leander wandring Knight,
To Delphos taking his all speedie flight,
That by the Oracle of Apollo,
His further Fortunes he may truely knowe.
True-loue quite bannisht, lust began to pleade,
To Hero like a scholler deepely reade:
The flaming sighes, that boyle within my brest,
Faire loue (quoth he) are cause of my vnrest.
Vnrest I entertaine for thy sweet sake,
And in my tent choose sorrow for my make.
Why dost thou frowne (quoth he) and then she turn'd
Oh coole the fainting soule, that flaming burn'd:
Forc't by desire, to touch thy matchles beautie,
To whome thy seruant vowes all reuerent dutie.
With that her irefull browes clowded with frownes,
His soule already drencht, in woes sea drownes.
But floating on the waues thus he gan say,
Flint harted Lady canst thou be so coy?
Can pittie take no place, is kinde remorce
Quite bannisht, quite fled? then gan he to be horce,
Vnable to exclaime, against her longer,
Whose woe lament made Hero's hart more stronger.
Hero that gaue no eare to her commaunder,
But euer weepes for her exil'd Leander:
And weeping sore among'st her liquid teares,
These words she spake, wherewith her sorrow weares.
(The piller perisht is, whereto I lent,
To my vnhap, for lust away hath sent,
Of all my Ioy, the verie barke and rinde,
The strongest stay of my vnquiet minde:
And I alas am forc't without consent,
Dayly to mourne, till death doe it relent.)
Oh my Leander he is banished,
From his sweete Hero's sight he is exiled.
Oh yee iust heauens, if that heauen be iust,
Raine the vnbridled head, of hautie lust,
Make him to stoope, that forceth others bend,
Bereaue his ioyes, that rest me of my friend.
I want my selfe, for Hero wants her loue,
And where Leander is, my selfe doth moue.
What can I more, but haue a woefull hart,
My minde in woe, my body full of smart,
And I my selfe, my selfe alwayes to hate,
Till dreadfull death doe ease my dolefull state.
The angry Duke lay listning to her words,
And till she ends no speech at all affords,
Vntill at length; exclaiming gainst her kinde,
Thus he breath'd foorth the venome of his minde.
(Oh timerous taunters that delights in toyes,
langling iesters, depriuers of sweete ioyes,
Fumbling cock-boats tottering too and fro,
Grown'd of the graft, whence all my griefe doth grow:
Sullen Serpents enuiron'd with despight,
That ill for good at all times doth requite.
As Cypresse tree that rent is by the roote,
As well sowen seede, for drought that cannot sprout
As braunch or slip bitter from whence it growes,
As gaping ground that raineles cannot close:
As fish on lande to whome no water flowes,
As flowers doe fade when Phœbus rarest showes,
As Salamandra repulsed from the fier,
Wanting my wish, I die for my desire.)
Speaking those words death seiz'd him for his owne,
Wherewith she thought her woes were ouerthrowne:
Hero so thought, but yet she thought amisse,
Before she was belou'd: now findes no blisse.
Duke Archilaus being sodaine dead,
Young Euristippus ruled in his stead:
The next succeeding heire to what was his,
Then Hero's woes increast, and fled all blis.
Looke how the sillie harmeles bleating lambe,
Bereft from his kinde make the gentle dam,
Left as a pray to Butchers crueltie,
In whome she findes not any drop of mercie.
Or like a warriour whom his Souldiors flies,
At his shrill eccho of his foes dread cries.
He all vnable to withstand so many,
Not hauing wherewith to combat, nor any
Assured friend that dares to comfort him,
Not any way for feare dares succour him.
But as a pray he yeildes to him he would not,
Yf he had helpe, but (helplesse) striue he could not.
So far'd it with the meeke distressed Hero,
That sweet Leander, bannished her fro.
She had no Hercules, to defend her cause,
She had no Brandamore, disdaining lawes,
To combat for her safetie; this sweet Io,
Had no kinde Ioue to keepe her from her foe.
This Psiches had no Cupid, loue was bannisht,
And loue from loue exild, loue needs must famish.
Wood Euristippus for his brothers death,
Like as a toyled huntsman wanting breath,
Stormeth that bad chance in the games pursute,
Should cause him panting, rest as dead and mute.
Or like sad Orphey for Euridice,
Whom Cerberus bereft so hastilie,
Like to the thundering threates of Hercules,
The worldes admired Prince the great Alcides,
When Nessus got the height of his desire;
By rauishing his fairest Deianire.
Such was his ire, and more if more may be,
Which he gainst Hero breathed spightfully:
Thou damned hag: thus gan he to exclaime,
Thou base borne Strumpet one of Circes traine.
Durst thou presume, poore sillie simple flie,
With Venum's force, to force an Ægle die?
What though my brother Leander bannished,
Must he by thee therefore be poysoned?
Die cursed wretch, with that he cast her from him,
And would not suffer her to looke vpon him.
The still-amazed Lady musing stood,
Admiring why the Duke should be so wood.
Humbly she prostrates her at Angers feete,
And with downe dropping teares, like liquid sleete,
She watereth the Summer thirstie ground,
Weeping so long, she fell into a sound.
Againe reuiued by the standers by,
She doth intreate them to resolue her why,
Duke Euristippus wrongeth her so much,
As to dishonour her with such a touch.
Well know the Gods my guiltlesse soule (quoth she,)
Was Archilaus poysoned by me,
Yf so? Iust heauens and immortall powers,
Raine vengeance downe in all consuming showers:
And cause that Hero, that was counted faire,
Like a mad hellish furie to dispaire.
The more she weepes, the more the heauens smile,
Scorning that beautie should take any soile,
Iuno commaunded Argos to defend her,
But Iupiter would not so much befriend her.
Argos starke dead; sweet Hero might not liue,
For of her life the Duke will her depriue.
Her doome was thus, ere three moneths date tooke end,
If she found none, that would her cause defend:
Vntimely death should seize her as a pray,
And vnresisting life, should death obay.
Meane time within a rocke-fram'd castle strong,
She was imprisoned traytors vile among:
Where (discontented) when she should haue rested,
Her foode bad fare, with sighes and teares she feasted.
And when the breathlesse horses of the Sunne,
Had made their stay, and Luna had begun,
With cheerefull smyling browes to grace darke night,
Clad in blacke sable weedes, for want of light.
This all alone sad Lady gan to play,
Framing sweet musick to her welladay:
The'ffect whereof this Sonnet plainely showes,
The fountaine whence springs Hero's heauie woes.
To Hero like a scholler deepely reade:
The flaming sighes, that boyle within my brest,
Faire loue (quoth he) are cause of my vnrest.
Vnrest I entertaine for thy sweet sake,
And in my tent choose sorrow for my make.
Why dost thou frowne (quoth he) and then she turn'd
Oh coole the fainting soule, that flaming burn'd:
Forc't by desire, to touch thy matchles beautie,
To whome thy seruant vowes all reuerent dutie.
With that her irefull browes clowded with frownes,
His soule already drencht, in woes sea drownes.
Flint harted Lady canst thou be so coy?
Can pittie take no place, is kinde remorce
Quite bannisht, quite fled? then gan he to be horce,
Vnable to exclaime, against her longer,
Whose woe lament made Hero's hart more stronger.
Hero that gaue no eare to her commaunder,
But euer weepes for her exil'd Leander:
And weeping sore among'st her liquid teares,
These words she spake, wherewith her sorrow weares.
(The piller perisht is, whereto I lent,
To my vnhap, for lust away hath sent,
Of all my Ioy, the verie barke and rinde,
The strongest stay of my vnquiet minde:
And I alas am forc't without consent,
Dayly to mourne, till death doe it relent.)
Oh my Leander he is banished,
From his sweete Hero's sight he is exiled.
Oh yee iust heauens, if that heauen be iust,
Raine the vnbridled head, of hautie lust,
Make him to stoope, that forceth others bend,
Bereaue his ioyes, that rest me of my friend.
I want my selfe, for Hero wants her loue,
And where Leander is, my selfe doth moue.
What can I more, but haue a woefull hart,
My minde in woe, my body full of smart,
And I my selfe, my selfe alwayes to hate,
Till dreadfull death doe ease my dolefull state.
The angry Duke lay listning to her words,
And till she ends no speech at all affords,
Thus he breath'd foorth the venome of his minde.
(Oh timerous taunters that delights in toyes,
langling iesters, depriuers of sweete ioyes,
Fumbling cock-boats tottering too and fro,
Grown'd of the graft, whence all my griefe doth grow:
Sullen Serpents enuiron'd with despight,
That ill for good at all times doth requite.
As Cypresse tree that rent is by the roote,
As well sowen seede, for drought that cannot sprout
As braunch or slip bitter from whence it growes,
As gaping ground that raineles cannot close:
As fish on lande to whome no water flowes,
As flowers doe fade when Phœbus rarest showes,
As Salamandra repulsed from the fier,
Wanting my wish, I die for my desire.)
Speaking those words death seiz'd him for his owne,
Wherewith she thought her woes were ouerthrowne:
Hero so thought, but yet she thought amisse,
Before she was belou'd: now findes no blisse.
Duke Archilaus being sodaine dead,
Young Euristippus ruled in his stead:
The next succeeding heire to what was his,
Then Hero's woes increast, and fled all blis.
Looke how the sillie harmeles bleating lambe,
Bereft from his kinde make the gentle dam,
Left as a pray to Butchers crueltie,
In whome she findes not any drop of mercie.
Or like a warriour whom his Souldiors flies,
At his shrill eccho of his foes dread cries.
Not hauing wherewith to combat, nor any
Assured friend that dares to comfort him,
Not any way for feare dares succour him.
But as a pray he yeildes to him he would not,
Yf he had helpe, but (helplesse) striue he could not.
So far'd it with the meeke distressed Hero,
That sweet Leander, bannished her fro.
She had no Hercules, to defend her cause,
She had no Brandamore, disdaining lawes,
To combat for her safetie; this sweet Io,
Had no kinde Ioue to keepe her from her foe.
This Psiches had no Cupid, loue was bannisht,
And loue from loue exild, loue needs must famish.
Wood Euristippus for his brothers death,
Like as a toyled huntsman wanting breath,
Stormeth that bad chance in the games pursute,
Should cause him panting, rest as dead and mute.
Or like sad Orphey for Euridice,
Whom Cerberus bereft so hastilie,
Like to the thundering threates of Hercules,
The worldes admired Prince the great Alcides,
When Nessus got the height of his desire;
By rauishing his fairest Deianire.
Such was his ire, and more if more may be,
Which he gainst Hero breathed spightfully:
Thou damned hag: thus gan he to exclaime,
Thou base borne Strumpet one of Circes traine.
Durst thou presume, poore sillie simple flie,
With Venum's force, to force an Ægle die?
Must he by thee therefore be poysoned?
Die cursed wretch, with that he cast her from him,
And would not suffer her to looke vpon him.
The still-amazed Lady musing stood,
Admiring why the Duke should be so wood.
Humbly she prostrates her at Angers feete,
And with downe dropping teares, like liquid sleete,
She watereth the Summer thirstie ground,
Weeping so long, she fell into a sound.
Againe reuiued by the standers by,
She doth intreate them to resolue her why,
Duke Euristippus wrongeth her so much,
As to dishonour her with such a touch.
Well know the Gods my guiltlesse soule (quoth she,)
Was Archilaus poysoned by me,
Yf so? Iust heauens and immortall powers,
Raine vengeance downe in all consuming showers:
And cause that Hero, that was counted faire,
Like a mad hellish furie to dispaire.
The more she weepes, the more the heauens smile,
Scorning that beautie should take any soile,
Iuno commaunded Argos to defend her,
But Iupiter would not so much befriend her.
Argos starke dead; sweet Hero might not liue,
For of her life the Duke will her depriue.
Her doome was thus, ere three moneths date tooke end,
If she found none, that would her cause defend:
Vntimely death should seize her as a pray,
And vnresisting life, should death obay.
She was imprisoned traytors vile among:
Where (discontented) when she should haue rested,
Her foode bad fare, with sighes and teares she feasted.
And when the breathlesse horses of the Sunne,
Had made their stay, and Luna had begun,
With cheerefull smyling browes to grace darke night,
Clad in blacke sable weedes, for want of light.
This all alone sad Lady gan to play,
Framing sweet musick to her welladay:
The'ffect whereof this Sonnet plainely showes,
The fountaine whence springs Hero's heauie woes.
Hero's lamentation in Prison.
Nights mourning blacke and mistie vailing hew,
Shadowes the blessed comfort of the Sunne:
At whose bright gaze I wonted to renew
My liueles life, when life was almost done.
Done is my life, and all my pleasure done,
For he is gone, in whome my life begun:
Vnhappie I poore I, and none as I,
But pilgrim he, poore he, that should be by.
Shadowes the blessed comfort of the Sunne:
At whose bright gaze I wonted to renew
My liueles life, when life was almost done.
Done is my life, and all my pleasure done,
For he is gone, in whome my life begun:
Vnhappie I poore I, and none as I,
But pilgrim he, poore he, that should be by.
My loue exil'd, and I in prison fast,
Out streaming teares breake into weeping raine,
He too soone banisht, I in dungeon cast,
He for me mourneth, I for him complaine.
He's banished, yet liues at libertie,
And I exil'd, yet liue in miserie:
He weepes for me far off, I for him here,
I would I were with him, and he more nere.
Out streaming teares breake into weeping raine,
He too soone banisht, I in dungeon cast,
He for me mourneth, I for him complaine.
He's banished, yet liues at libertie,
And I exil'd, yet liue in miserie:
He weepes for me far off, I for him here,
I would I were with him, and he more nere.
Bvt this imprisoning caue, this woefull cell,
This house of sorrow and increasing woe,
Griefes tearie chamber where sad care doth dwell,
Where liquid teares, like top fil'd Seas doe flow:
Beating their waues gainst still relentles stone,
Still still they smile on me, and I still mone;
I weepe to stone, and stone of stone I finde,
Colde stone, colde comfort yeilds (oh most vnkinde.)
This house of sorrow and increasing woe,
Griefes tearie chamber where sad care doth dwell,
Where liquid teares, like top fil'd Seas doe flow:
Beating their waues gainst still relentles stone,
Still still they smile on me, and I still mone;
I weepe to stone, and stone of stone I finde,
Colde stone, colde comfort yeilds (oh most vnkinde.)
Oft haue I read that stone relents at raine,
And I impleat their barren wombe with store,
Teares streaming downe, they wet and wet againe,
Yet pittilesse they harden more and more.
And when my longing soule lookes they should sonder,
I touch the flintie stone, and they seeme stronger,
They stronge, I weake: alas what hope haue I?
Hero wants comfort, Hero needs must die.
And I impleat their barren wombe with store,
Teares streaming downe, they wet and wet againe,
Yet pittilesse they harden more and more.
And when my longing soule lookes they should sonder,
I touch the flintie stone, and they seeme stronger,
They stronge, I weake: alas what hope haue I?
Hero wants comfort, Hero needs must die.
With heauie cheere had warbled this sad tale:
Nights drowsie God an iuorie Cannopie,
Curtaines before the windowes of faire beautie.
Drown'd thus in sleepe, she spent the wearie night,
There leaue I Hero in a heauie plight.
Now to the woefull Pilgrime I returne,
Whose passions force the gentle birdes to mourne.
They see Leander weepe, with heauie note
They faintly singe, as when they singe by rote:
While he gan descant on his miserie,
The pretie fowles doe make him melodie.
Leanders complaint of his restles estate.
Bright Heauens immortall mouing Spheares,
and Phœbus all diuine,
Rue on lowe Earths vnfained teares:
that issue from Earths eyne.
Eyes, were these no eyes, whilst eies eye-sight lasted,
but these darke eyes cleere sight, sad sorrow wasted.
and Phœbus all diuine,
Rue on lowe Earths vnfained teares:
that issue from Earths eyne.
Eyes, were these no eyes, whilst eies eye-sight lasted,
but these darke eyes cleere sight, sad sorrow wasted.
What creature liuing liues in griefe,
that breathes on Tellus soile?
But Heauens pitie with reliefe,
saue me, a slaue to spoyle.
Spoyle doe his worst, spoyle cannot spoile me more,
Spoyle neuer spoyl'd, so true a Loue before.
that breathes on Tellus soile?
But Heauens pitie with reliefe,
saue me, a slaue to spoyle.
Spoyle neuer spoyl'd, so true a Loue before.
The stricken Deere stands not in awe
of blacke grym irefull Death,
For he findes hearbes that can withdrawe
the shaft, to saue his breath.
The chased Deere hath soile to coole his heate,
The toyled Steed is vp in stable set.
of blacke grym irefull Death,
For he findes hearbes that can withdrawe
the shaft, to saue his breath.
The chased Deere hath soile to coole his heate,
The toyled Steed is vp in stable set.
The sillie Owles lurke in the leaues,
shine Sunne or nights Queene whether:
The Sparrowe shrowdes her in the eaues,
from stormes of huffing weather.
Fowles comfort finde, Leander findes no friend,
Then (comfortlesse) Leanders life must end.
By this it pleas'd the smiling browes of Heauen,
shine Sunne or nights Queene whether:
The Sparrowe shrowdes her in the eaues,
from stormes of huffing weather.
Fowles comfort finde, Leander findes no friend,
Then (comfortlesse) Leanders life must end.
Whose deadly frownes, him erst of ioy beryuen:
To set a period to Leanders toyle,
Hauing enioy'd that long desired soyle.
And Delphos sacred hie erected towers,
Vnto Apollo's Oracle he goes,
In hope to finde reliefe for many woes;
He craues long lookt-for rest, or else to die,
To whome the Oracle gan thus reply.
The Oracle.
He loueth thine that loues not thee,His loue to thine shall fatall bee.
Vpon suspect she shalbe staine,
Vnles thou doe returne againe.
These harsh according rimes to mickle paine,
Did but renewe Leanders woes againe:
Yet as he might, with Fortunes sweet consent,
He gins returne all dangers to preuent.
Within short time at Sestos he ariueth,
On Loues light winges, desire Leander driueth,
Desire that longs to view a blessed end,
Of Loue and Fortune that so long contend.
This backe retired Pilgrime liu'd secure,
And in vnknowen disguise, he did indure,
Full two moneths space vntill the time drew nie,
To free faire Hero, or inforce her die:
The date outworne of the prefixed day,
When combatants their valour should display.
T'were wonder to behould how men resorted.
Knights neighboring by, and Ladies all diuine,
Darting daies splendour from their Sunne-like eyne:
Spectatum veniunt, veniunt spectanrur vt ipse,
But wanting faire, they come to gaze on beautie,
Beautie faire Heauens beautie, worlds wonder,
Hero whose beautie keepes all beautie vnder.
This faire fac't beautie, from a fowle fac't cell,
A loath-some dungeon like to nights darke hell,
At the fell Dukes commaund in open view,
Was sent for, on whose neuer spotted hew,
Earths mortall soules doe feed and gaze vpon her,
So long they gaze, that they doe surfet on her.
For when this Earthes admir'd immortall Sunne,
To peepe from vnder sable hould begun.
Like as the pearcing eye of cloudie Heauen,
Whose sight the blacke thicke cloudes haue quite beriuen.
But by the huffing windes being ouerblowen,
And all their blacke expeld and ouerthrowen.
The day doth gin, be iocond secure playing,
The faire of Heauen, his beautie so displaying:
So when the fairest Hero did begin,
(Whilome yclad in darknes blacke tan'd skin.
To passe the noysome portall of the prison,
Like to the gorgeous Phœbus newly risen,
She doth illuminate the morning day,
Clad in a sable Mantle of blacke Say.
Which Hero's eyes transformed to faire white,
Making the lowring-morne darke, pure light.
As there are fierie Tapors in the skies:
As many eyes gaz'd on faire Hero's beautie,
As there be eyes that offer Heauen dutie:
As many seruitors attended on her,
As Venus, seruants had to waite vpon her.
Though by the sterne Duke she was dishonored,
Yet of the people she was honored:
Mong'st whome exil'd Leander all vnseene,
And all vnknowne attended on his Queene.
When to the neere-adioyning pallaice gate,
The place appointed for the Princely combate,
They did approch; there might all eies behold,
The Duke in armour of pure beaten gold,
Mounted vpon a Steed as white as snow,
The proud Duke Euristippus Hero's foe.
Hero being seated in rich Maiestie,
A seruile hand-mayd to Captiuitie.
From whence she might behold that gentle Knight,
That for her sake durst hazard life in fight.
For this was all the comfort Hero had,
So many eyes shed teares to see her sad.
Her hand-maide hope, perswaded her some one,
Vndaunted Knight would be her Champion.
Yet since her Lord Leander was not nie,
She was resolu'd eyther to liue or die;
But her Leander carefull of his loue,
Iutending loues firme constancie to proue:
(Yf to his lot the honour did befall,)
Withdrew himselfe into the Pallaice hall,
And priuily conducted to a tent,
From whence he issu'd foorth at trumpets sound,
Who at the first encounter, on the ground,
Forced the mazed Duke sore panting lie,
Drown'd in the ryuer of sad extacie.
At length reuiuing, he doth mount againe,
Whome young Leander in short time had slaine.
The Duke quite dead, this all vnknowne young Knight,
Was foorthwith made the heire of Sestos right.
The Princesse Hero set at libertie,
Kept by the late dead Duke in miserie:
Whose constancie Leander gan to proue,
And now anew begins to court his loue.
To walke on ground where danger is vnseene,
Doth make men doubt, where they haue neuer been.
As blind men feare what footing they shall finde:
So doth the wise mistrust the straungers minde.
I strange to you, and you vnknowen to me,
Yet may not loue twixt vs two grafted bee?
What I haue done, for Hero's loue was done,
Say then you loue, and end as I begun.
I hazard life, to free thy beauties faire,
From Tyrants force and hellish foule dispaire:
Then sacred Faire ballance my good desart,
Inrich my soule with thy affecting hart.
Hero repli'd: (to rue on all false teares,
And forged tales, wherein craft oft appeares,
To trust each fained face, and forcing charme,
Betrayes the simple soule that thinks no harme.)
Not euery sigh warrants, men doe not faine,
Not euery smoke doth proue a present fier,
Not all that glisters, goulden soules desire,
Not euery word is drawen out of the deepe,
For oft men smile, when they doe seeme to weepe:
Oft malice makes the minde to powre forth brine,
And enuie leakes the conduits of the eyne.
Craft oft doth cause men make a seeming showe,
Of heauie woes where griefe did neuer growe.
Then blame not those that wiselie can beware,
To shun dissimulations dreadfull snare.
Blame not the stopped eares gainst Syrens songe,
Blame not the minde not mou'd with falshood tonge.)
But rest content and satisfied with this,
Whilst true Leander liues, true Hero's his.
And thy Leander liues sweete soule sayde he,
Praysing thy all admired chastitie.
Though thus disguis'd, I am that banisht Knight,
That for affecting thee was put to flight.
Hero, I am Leander thy true phere,
As true to thee, as life to me is deere.
When Hero all amazed gan reuiue,
And she that then seem'd dead, was now aliue:
With kinde imbracements kissing at each straine,
She welcoms him, and kisses him againe.
By thee, my ioyes haue shaken of dispaire,
All stormes be past, and weather waxeth faire,
By thy returne Hero receaues more Ioye,
Then Paris did when Hellen was in Troy.
And now my wits with pleasant thoughts are fed.
Feed sacred Sainct on Nectar all diuine,
While these my eyes (quoth he) gaze on thy eyne.
And euer after may these eyes beware,
That they on strangers beautie neuer stare:
(My wits I charme henceforth they take such heede,
They frame no toyes, my fancies new to feede.
Deafe be my eares to heare another voice,
To force me smile, or make my soule reioyce,
Lame be my feete when they presume to moue,
To force Leander seeke another loue.)
And when thy faire (sweet faire) I gin disgrace,
Heauen to my soule afford no resting place.
What he to her, she vow'd the like to him,
(All sorrowes fled) their ioyes anew begin.
Full many yeares those louers liu'd in fame,
That all the world did much admire the same.
Their liues spent date, and vnresisted death,
At hand to set a period to their breath,
They were transform'd by all diuine decrees,
Into the forme, and shape of two Pine trees.
Whose Natures such, the Fæmale pine will die,
Vnles the Male be euer planted by:
A map for all succeeding times to come,
To view true-loue, which in their loues begun.
FINIS.
Qualis vita, finis ita.
| The Second Part of Hero and Leander | |