University of Virginia Library

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.

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.