Chapter VII: Introduction (6)

He is a Courtier, for he courts his Loue:
He is a Scholler, for he sings sweet Ditties:
He is a Souldier, for he wounds doth proue;
He is the fame of Townes, the shame of Citties;
He scornes false Fortune, put true Vertue pitties.
He is a Gentleman, because his nature
Is kinde and affable to euerie Creature.

Who would not then a simple Shepheard bee,
Rather than be a mightie Monarch made?
Since he inioyes such perfect libertie,
As neuer can decay, nor neuer fade:
He seldome sits in dolefull Cypresse shade,
But liues in hope, in ioy, in peace, in blisse:
Ioying all ioy with this content of his.

But now good-fortune lands my little Boate
Vpon the shoare of his desired rest:
Now I must leaue (awhile) my rurall noate,
To thinke on him whom my soule loueth best;
He that can make the most vnhappie blest:
In whose sweete lap He lay me downe to sleepe,
And neuer wake till Marble-stones shall weepe.

_FINIS._

SONNET.

Loe here behold these tributarie Teares
Paid to thy faire, but cruell tyrant Eyes;
Loe here the blossome of my youthfull yeares,
Nipt with the fresh of thy Wraths winter, dyes,

Here on Loues Altar I doo offer vp
This burning hart for my Soules sacrifice;
Here I receaue this deadly-poysned Cu[p]
Of _Circe_ charm'd; wherein deepe Magicke lyes.

Then Teares (if thou be happie Teares indeed),
And Hart (if thou be lodged in his brest),
And Cup (if thou canst helpe despaire with speed);
Teares, Hart, and Cup conjoyne to make me blest:
Teares moue, Hart win, Cup cause, ruth, loue, desire,
In word, in deed, by moane, by zeale, by fire.

_FINIS._

THE COMPLAINT

OF CHASTITIE.

Briefely touching the cause of the death of _Matilda Fitzwalters_ an English Ladie; sometime loued of King _Iohn_, after poysoned. The Storie is at large written by _Michael Dreyton_.

You modest Dames, inricht with Chastitie.
Maske your bright eyes with _Vestaes_ sable Vaile,
Since few are left so faire or chast as shee;
(Matter for me to weepe, you to bewaile):
For manie seeming so, of Vertue faile;
Whose louely Cheeks (with rare vermillion tainted)
Can neuer blush because their faire is painted.

O faire-foule Tincture, staine of Woman-kinde,
Mother of Mischiefe, Daughter of Deceate,
False traitor to the Soule, blot to the Minde,
Vsurping Tyrant of true Beauties seate,
Right Cousner of the eye, lewd Follies baite,
The flag of filthines, the sinke of shame,
The Diuells dye, dishonour of thy name.

Monster of Art, Bastard of bad Desier,
Il-worshipt Idoll, false Imagerie,
Ensigne of Vice, to thine owne selfe a lier,
Silent Inchaunter, mindes Anatomie,
Sly Bawd to Lust, Pandor to Infamie,
Slaunder of Truth, Truth of Dissimulation;
Staining our Clymate more than anie Nature.

What shall I say to thee? thou scorne of Nature,
Blacke spot of sinne, vylde lure of lecherie;
Iniurious Blame to euerie faemale creature,
Wronger of time, Broker of trecherie,
Trap of greene youth, false Womens witcherie,
Hand-maid of pride, high-way to wickednesse;
Yet path-way to Repentance, nere the lesse.

Thou dost entice the minde to dooing euill,
Thou setst dissention twixt the man and wife;
A Saint in show, and yet indeed a deuill:
Thou art the cause of euerie common strife;
Thou art the life of Death, the death of Life!
Thou doost betray thyselfe to Infamie,
When thou art once discernd by the eye.

Ah, little knew _Matilda_ of thy being,
Those times were pure from all impure complection;
Then Loue came at Desert, Desert of seeing,
Then Vertue was the mother of Affection,
(But Beautie now is vnder no subjection),
Then women were the same that men did deeme,
But now they are the same they doo not seeme.

What fæmale now intreated of a King
With gold and iewels, pearles and precious stones,
Would willingly refuse so sweete a thing?
Onely for a little show of Vertue ones?
Women haue kindnes grafted in their bones.
Gold is a deepe-perswading Orator,
Especially where few the fault abhor.

But yet shee rather deadly poyson chose,
(Oh cruell Bane of most accursed Clime;)
Than staine that milk-white Mayden-virgin Rose,
Which shee had kept vnspotted till that time:
And not corrupted with this earthly slime
Her soule shall liue: inclosd eternally,
In that pure shrine of Immortality.

This is my Doome: and this shall come to passe,
For what are Pleasures but still-vading ioyes?
Fading as flowers, brittle as a glasse,
Or Potters Clay; crost with the least annoyes;
All thinges in this life are but trifling Toyes:
But Fame and Vertue neuer shall decay,
For Fame is Toomblesse, Vertue liues for aye!

_FINIS._

Hellens Rape.

_OR_

A light Lanthorne for light Ladies.

Written in English Hexameters.

_Louely a Lasse, so loued a Lasse, and (alas) such a louing_
_Lasse, for a while (but a while) was none such a sweet bonny
Loue-Lasse_
_As_ Helen, Mænelaus _louing, lou'd, loulie a loue-lasse,_
_Till spightfull Fortune from a loue-lasse made her a loue-lesse_
_Wife. From a wise woman to a witles vvanton abandond,_
_When her mate (vnawares) made warres in_ Peloponessus,_
_Adultrous_ Paris (_then a Boy_) _kept sheepe as a shepheard_
_On_ Ida _Mountaine, vnknowne to the King for a Keeper_
_Of sheep, on_ Ida _Mountaine, as a Boy, as a shepheard:_
_Yet such sheep he kept, and was so seemelie a shepheard,_
_Seemlie a Boy, so seemlie a youth, so seemlie a Younker,_
_That on_ Ida _was not such a Boy, such a youth, such a Younker._
_Sonne now reconcil'd to the Father, fained a letter_
_Sent him by_ Iupiter (_the greatest God in_ Olympus)
_For to repaire with speede to the brauest Græcian Hauen,
And to redeeme againe_ Hesyone _latelie reuolted
From_ Troy _by_ Aiax, _whom she had newly betrothed.
Well, so well he told his tale to his Aunt_ Amaryllis
_That_ Amaryllis, _(his Aunt,) obtaind aid of his aged
Syre, that he sent him a ship, and made Capten of_ Argus.
_Great store went to Greece with lust-bewitched_ Alexis,
Telamour, _and_ Tydias: _with these he sliceth the salt seas,
The salt seas slicing, at length he comes to the firme land,
Firme land an auntient Iland cald old_ Lacedæmon.
Argus _(eye full Earle) when first the ken of a Castle
He had spide bespake: (to the Mate, to the men, to the Mates-man)
Lo behold of Greece (quoth he) the great_ Cytadella.
(_Ycleaped_ Menela) _so tearmed of_ Deliaes _Husband:
Happie_ Helen, _Womens most woonder, beautifull_ Helen.
_Oh would God (quoth he) with a flattring Tongue he repeated:
Oh would God (quoth he) that I might deserue to be husband
To such a happie huswife, to such a beautifull_ Helen.
_This he spake to intice the minde of a lecherous young-man:
But what spurres need now, for an vntam'd Titt to be trotting:
Or to add old Oile to the flame, new flaxe to the fier:_
Paris _heard him hard, and gaue good eare to his hearkening:
And then his loue to a lust, his lust was turnd to a fier,
Fier was turnd to a flame, and flame was turnd to a burning
Brand: and mothers Dreame was then most truelie resolued.
Well so far th'are come, that now th'are come to the Castle,
Castle all of stone, yet euery stone vvas a Castle:
Euerie foote had a Fort, and euerie Fort had a fountaine,
Euerie fountaine a spring, and euerie spring had a spurting
Streame: so strong without, vvithin, so stately a building,
Neuer afore vvas seene; If neuer afore_ Polyphœbe
_Was seene: vvas to be seene, if nere to be seene vvas_ Olympus.
_Flovvers vvere framd of flints, Walls, Rubies, Rafters of Argent:
Pauement of Chrisolite, Windows contriu'd of a Cristall:
Vessels were of gold, with gold was each thing adorned:
Golden Webs more worth than a vvealthy_ Souldan _of Egypt,
And her selfe more vvorth than a vvealthy_ Souldan _of Egypt:
And her selfe more worth than all the wealth shee possessed;
Selfe? indeede such a selfe, as thundring_ Ioue _in_ Olympus,
_Though he were father could finde in his hart to be husband.
Embassage ended, to the Queene of faire_ Lacedæmon;
_(Happie King of a Queene so faire, of a Countrey so famous)
Embassage ended, a Banquet braue was appointed:
Sweet Repast for a Prince, fine Iunkets fit for a Kings sonne.
Biskets and Carrawayes, Comfets, Tart, Plate, Ielley, Gingerbread,
Lymons and Medlars: and Dishes moe by a thousand.
First they fell to the feast, and after fall to a Dauncing,
And from a Dance to a Trance, from a Trance they fell to a falling,
Either in other armes, and either in armes of another.
Pastime ouer-past, and Banquet duely prepared,
Deuoutly pared: Each one hies home to his owne home,
Saue Lord and Ladie; Young Lad, but yet such an old Lad,
In such a Ladies lappe, at such a slipperie by-blow,
That in a vvorld so vvilde, could not be found such a wilie
Lad: in an Age so old, could not be found such an old lad:
Old lad, and bold lad, such a Boy, such a lustie_ Iuuentus:
_Well to their vvorke they goe, and both they iumble in one Bed:
Worke so well they like, that they still like to be vvorking:
For_ Aurora _mounts before he leaues to be mounting:
And_ Astræa _fades before she faints to be falling:_
(Helen _a light Huswife, now a lightsome starre in_ Olympus.)

_FINIS._

_Cynthia._

VVITH CER-
taine
Sonnets, and
the Legend of
_Cassandra._

_Quod cupio nequeo._

_At London_,
Printed for Humfrey
_Lownes, and are to bee_
sold at the VVest doore
of Paules. 1595.

To the Right Honorable, and
most noble-minded Lorde,
William Stanley, Earle of
Darby, &c.

_Right Honorable, the dutifull affection I beare to your manie vertues, is cause, that to manifest my loue to your Lordship, I am constrained to shew my simplenes to the world. Many are they that admire your worth, of the which number, I (though the meanest in abilitie, yet with the formost in affection) am one that most desire to serue, and onely to serue your Honour._

_Small is the gift, but great is my good-will; the which, by how much the lesse I am able to expresse it, by so much the more it is infinite. Liue long: and inherit your Predecessors vertues, as you doe their dignitie and estate. This is my wish: the which your honorable excellent giftes doe promise me to obtaine: and whereof these few rude and vnpollished lines, are a true (though an vndeseruing) testimony. If my ability were better, the signes should be greater; but being as it is, your honour must take me as I am, not as I should be. My yeares being so young, my perfection cannot be greater: But howsoeuer it is, yours it is; and I my selfe am yours; in all humble seruice, most ready to be commaunded._

Richard Barnefeilde.

_To the curteous Gentlemen Readers._

Gentlemen; the last Terme [_i.e._, _November_ 1594] there came forth a little toy of mine, intituled, _The affectionate Shepheard:_ In the which, his Country _Content_ found such friendly fauor, that it hath incouraged me to publish my second fruites. _The affectionate Shepheard_ being the first: howsoeuer undeseruedly (I protest) I haue beene thought (of some) to haue beene the authour of two Books heretofore. I neede not to name them, because they are two-well knowne already: nor will I deny them, because they are dislik't; but because they are not mine. This protestation (I hope) will satisfie th'indifferent: as for them that are maliciously enuious, as I cannot, so I care not to please. Some there were, that did interpret _The affectionate Shepheard_, otherwise then (in truth) I meant, touching the subiect thereof, to wit, the loue of a Shepheard to a boy; a fault, the which I will not excuse, because I neuer made. Onely this, I will vnshaddow my conceit: being nothing else, but an imitation of _Virgill_, in the second Eglogue of _Alexis_. In one or two places (in this Booke) I vse the name of _Eliza_ pastorally: wherein, lest any one should misconster my meaning (as I hope none will) I haue here briefly discouered my harmeles conceipt as concerning that name: whereof once (in a simple Shepheards deuice) I wrot this Epigramme.

_One name there is, which name aboue all other
I most esteeme, as time and place shall proue:
The one is_ Vesta, _th'other_ Cupids _Mother,
The first my Goddesse is, the last my loue;
Subiect to Both I am: to that by berth;
To this for beautie; fairest on the earth._

Thus, hoping you will beare with my rude conceit of _Cynthia_, (if for no other cause, yet, for that it is the first imitation of the verse of that excellent Poet, Maister _Spencer_, in his _Fayrie Queene_) I will leaue you to the reading of that, which I so much desire may breed your Delight.

_Richard Barnefeild._

T. T. in commendation of the _Authour his worke_.

Whylom that in a shepheards gray coate masked,
(Where masked loue the nonage of his skill)
Reares new Eagle-winged pen, new tasked,
To scale the by-clift Muse sole-pleasing hill:
Dropping sweete Nectar poesie from his quill,
Admires faire CYNTHIA with his iuory pen
Faire CYNTHIA lou'd, fear'd, of Gods and men.

Downe sliding from that cloudes ore-pearing mounteine:
Decking with double grace the neighbour plaines,
Drawes christall dew, from PEGASE foote-sprung fountain,
Whose flower set banks, delights, sweet choice containes:
Nere yet discouerd to the country swaines:
Heere bud those branches, which adorne his turtle,
With loue made garlands, of heart-bleeding Mirtle.

Rays'd from the cynders, of the thrice-sact towne:
ILLIONS sooth-telling SYBILLIST appeares,
Eclipsing PHOEBUS loue, with scornefull frowne,
Whose tragicke end, affords warme-water teares,
(For pitty-wanting PACOE, none forbeares)
Such period haps, to beauties price ore-priz'd:
Where IANVS-faced loue, doth lurke disguiz'd.

Nere-waining CYNTHIA yeelds thee triple thankes,
Whose beames vnborrowed darke the worlds faire eie
And as full streames that euer fill their bankes,
So those rare Sonnets, where wits ripe doth lie,
With Troian Nimph, doe soare thy fame to skie.
And those, and these, contend thy Muse to raise
(Larke mounting Muse) with more then common praise.

_ENG. SCH. LIB. No._ 14.

_To his Mistresse._

Bright Starre of Beauty, fairest Faire aliue,
Rare president of peerelesse chastity;
(In whom the Muses and the Graces striue,
VVhich shall possesse the chiefest part of thee:)
Oh let these simple lines accepted bee:
VVhich here I offer at thy sacred shrine:
Sacred, because sweet Beauty is diuine.

And though I cannot please each curious eare,
With sugred Noates of heauenly Harmonie:
Yet if my loue shall to thy selfe appeare,
No other Muse I will inuoke but thee:
And if thou wilt my faire _Thalia_ be,
Ile sing sweet Hymnes and praises to thy name,
In that cleare Temple of eternall Fame.

But ah (alas) how can mine infant Muse
(That neuer heard of _Helicon_ before)
Performe my promise past: when they refuse
Poore Shepheards Plaints? yet will I still adore
Thy sacred Name, al though I write no more:
Yet hope I shall, if this accepted bee:
If not, in silence sleepe eternally.

_CYNTHIA._

Now was the Welkyn all inuelloped
With duskie Mantle of the sable Night:
And CYNTHIA lifting vp her drouping head,
Blusht at the Beautie of her borrowed light,
When Sleepe now summon'd euery mortal wight.
Then loe (me thought) I saw or seem'd to see,
An heauenly Creature like an Angell bright,
That in great haste came pacing towards me:
Was neuer mortall eye beheld so faire a Shee.

Thou lazie man (quoth she) what mak'st thou heere
(Luld in the lap of Honours Enimie?)
I heere commaund thee now for to appeare
(By vertue of IOVES mickle Maiestie)
In yonder Wood. (Which with her finger shee
Out-poynting) had no sooner turn'd her face,
And leauing mee to muze what she should bee,
Yuanished into some other place:
But straite (me thought) I saw a rout of heauenlie Race.

Downe in a Dale, hard by a Forrest side,
(Vnder the shaddow of a loftie Pine,)
Not far from whence a trickling streame did glide,
Did nature by her secret art combine,
A pleasant Arbour, of a spreading Vine:
Wherein Art stroue with nature to compaire,
That made it rather seeme a thing diuine
Being scituate all in the open Aire:
A fairer nere was seene, if any seene so faire.

There might one see, and yet not see (indeede)
Fresh _Flora_ flourishing in chiefest Prime,
Arrayed all in gay and gorgeous weede,
The Primrose and sweet-smelling Eglantine,
As fitted best beguiling so the time:
And euer as she went she strewd the place,
Red-roses mixt with Daffadillies fine,
For Gods and Goddesses, that in like case
In this same order sat, with il-beseeming grace.

First, in a royall Chaire of massie gold,
(Bard all about with plates of burning steele)
Sat _Iupiter_ most glorious to behold,
And in his hand was placed Fortunes wheele:
The which he often turn'd, and oft did reele.
And next to him, in griefe and gealouzie,
(If sight may censure what the heart doth feele)
In sad lament was placed _Mercurie;_
That dying seem'd to weep, and weeping seem'd to die.

On th'other side, aboue the other twaine,
(Delighting as it seem'd to sit alone)
Sat _Mulciber;_ in pride and high disdaine,
Mounted on high vpon a stately throne,
And euen with that I heard a deadly grone:
Muzing at this, and such an vncouth sight,
(Not knowing what shoulde make that piteous mone)
I saw three furies, all in Armour dight,
With euery one a Lampe, and euery one a light.

I deemed so; nor was I much deceau'd,
For poured forth in sensuall Delight,
There might I see of Sences quite bereau'd
King _Priams_ Sonne, that _Alexander_ hight
(Wrapt in the Mantle of eternall Night.)
And vnder him, awaiting for his fall,
Sate Shame, here Death, and there sat fel Despight,
That with their Horrour did his heart appall:
Thus was his Blisse to Bale, his Hony turn'd to gall.

In which delight feeding mine hungry eye,
Of two great Goddesses a sight I had,
And after them in wondrous Iollity,
(As one that inly ioy'd, so was she glad)
The Queene of Loue full royallie yclad,
In glistring Gold, and peerelesse precious stone,
There might I spie: and her Companion had,
Proud _Paris_, Nephew to _Laomedon_,
That afterward did cause the Death of many a one.

By this the formost melting all in teares,
And rayning downe resolued Pearls in showers,
Gan to approach the place of heauenly Pheares,
And with her weeping, watring all their Bowers,
Throwing sweet Odors on those fading flowers,
At length, she them bespake thus mournfullie.
High _Ioue_ (quoth she) and yee Cœlestiall powers,
That here in Iudgement sit twixt her and mee,
Now listen (for a while) and iudge with equitie.

Sporting our selues to day, as wee were woont
(I meane, I, _Pallas_, and the Queene of Loue.)
Intending with _Diana_ for to hunt,
On _Ida_ Mountaine top our skill to proue,
A golden Ball was trindled from aboue,
And on the Rinde was writ this Poesie,
PVLCHERIMÆ for which a while we stroue,
Each saying shee was fairest of the three,
When loe a shepheards Swaine not far away we see.

I spi'd him first, and spying thus bespake,
Shall yonder Swaine vnfolde the mysterie?
Agreed (quoth _Venus_) and by _Stygian_ Lake,
To whom he giues the ball so shall it bee:
Nor from his censure will I flie, quoth shee,
(Poynting to _Pallas_) though I loose the gole.
Thus euery one yplac'd in her degree,
The Shepheard comes, whose partial eies gan role,
And on our beuties look't, and of our beuties stole.

I promis'd wealth, _Minerua_ promised wit,
(Shee promis'd wit to him that was vnwise,)
But he (fond foole) had soone refused it,
And minding to bestow that glorious Prize,
On _Venus_, that with pleasure might suffize
His greedie minde in loose lasciuiousnes:
Vpon a sudden, wanting goode aduice,
Holde heere (quoth he) this golden Ball possesse,
Which _Paris_ giues to thee for meede of worthines,

Thus haue I shew'd the summe of all my sute,
And as a Plaintiffe heere appeale to thee,
And to the rest. Whose folly I impute
To filthie lust, and partialitie,
That made him iudge amisse: and so doo we
(Quoth _Pallas_, _Venus_,) nor will I gaine-say,
Although it's mine by right, yet willinglie,
I heere disclaime my title and obey:
When silence being made, _Ioue_ thus began to saie.

Thou _Venus_, art my darling, thou my deare,
(_Minerua_) shee, my sister and my wife:
So that of all a due respect I beare,
Assign'd as one to end this doubtfull strife,
(Touching your forme, your fame, your loue, your life)
Beauty is vaine much like a gloomy light,
And wanting wit is counted but a trife,
Especially when Honour's put to flight:
Thus of a lonely, soone becomes a loathly sight.

VVit without wealth is bad, yet counted good,
wealth wanting wisdom's worse, yet deem'd as wel,
From whence (for ay) doth flow, as from a flood,
A pleasant Poyson, and a heauenly Hell,
where mortall men do couet still to dwell.
Yet one there is to Vertue so inclin'd,
That as for Maiesty she beares the Bell,
So in the truth who tries her princelie minde,
Both Wisdom, Beauty, Wealth, and all in her shall find.

In Westerne world amids the Ocean maine,
In compleat Vertue shining like the Sunne,
In great Renowne a maiden Queene doth raigne,
Whose royall Race, in Ruine first begun,
Till Heauens bright Lamps dissolue shall nere be done:
In whose faire eies Loue linckt with vertues been,
In euerlasting Peace and Vnion.
Which sweet Consort in her full well beseeme
Of Bounty, and of Beauty fairest Fayrie Queene.

And to conclude, the gifts in her yfound,
Are all so noble, royall, and so rare,
That more and more in her they doe abound;
In her most peerelesse Prince without compare,
Endowing still her minde with vertuous care:
That through the world (so wide) the flying fame,
(And Name that Enuies selfe cannot impaire,)
Is blown of this faire Queen, this gorgeous dame,
Fame borrowing al men's mouths to royalize the same.

And with this sentence _Iupiter_ did end,
This is the Pricke (quoth he), this is the praies,
To whom, this as a Present I will send,
That shameth _Cynthia_ in her siluer Raies,
If so you three this deed doe not displease.
Then one, and all, and euery one of them,
To her that is the honour of her daies,
A second _Iudith_ in IERVSALEM.
To her we send this Pearle, this Iewell, and this Iem.

Then call'd he vp the winged _Mercury_,
(The mighty Messenger of Gods enrold,)
And bad him hither hastily to hie,
Whom tended by her Nymphes he should behold,
(Like Pearles ycouched all in shining gold.)
And euen with that, from pleasant slumbring sleepe,
(Desiring much these wonders to vnfold)
I wak'ning, when _Aurora_ gan to peepe,
Depriu'd so soone of my sweet Dreame, gan almost weepe.

_The Conclusion._

Thus, sacred Virgin, Muse of chastitie,
This difference is betwixt the Moone and thee:
Shee shines by Night; but thou by Day do'st shine:
Shee Monthly changeth; thou dost nere decline:
And as the Sunne, to her, doth lend his light,
So hee, by thee, is onely made so bright:
Yet neither Sun, nor Moone, thou canst be named,
Because thy light hath both their beauties shamed:
Then, since an heauenly Name doth thee befall,
Thou VIRGO art: (if any Signe at all).

FINIS.

[_SONNETS._]

_SONNET. I._

Sporting at fancie, setting light by loue,
There came a theefe, and stole away my heart,
(And therefore robd me of my chiefest part)
Yet cannot Reason him a felon proue.
For why his beauty (my hearts thiefe) affirmeth,
Piercing no skin (the bodies fensiue wall)
And hauing leaue, and free consent withall,
Himselfe not guilty, from loue guilty tearmeth,
Conscience the Iudge, twelue Reasons are the Iurie,
They finde mine eies the be[a]utie t' haue let in,
And on this verdict giuen, agreed they bin,
VVherefore, because his beauty did allure yee,
Your Doome is this: in teares still to be drowned,
VVhen his faire forehead with disdain is frowned.

_SONNET. II._

Be[a]uty and Maiesty are falne at ods,
Th'one claimes his cheeke, the other claimes his chin;
Then Vertue comes, and puts her title in.
(Quoth she) I make him like th'immortall Gods.
(Quoth Maiestie) I owne his lookes, his Brow,
His lips, (quoth Loue) his eies, his faire is mine.
And yet (quoth Maiesty) he is not thine,
I mixe Disdaine with Loues congealed Snow.
I, but (quoth Loue) his lockes are mine (by right)
His stately gate is mine (quoth Maiestie,)
And mine (quoth Vertue) is his Modestie.
Thus as they striue about this heauenly wight,
At last the other two to Vertue yeeld,
The lists of Loue, fought in faire Beauties field.

_SONNET. III._

The Stoicks thinke, (and they come neere the truth,)
That vertue is the chiefest good of all,
The Academicks on _Idea_ call.
The Epicures in pleasure spend their youth,
The Perrepatetickes iudge felicitie,
To be the chiefest good aboue all other,
One man, thinks this: and that conceaues another:
So that in one thing very few agree.
Let Stoicks haue their Vertue if they will,
And all the rest their chiefe-supposed good,
Let cruell Martialists delight in blood,
And Mysers ioy their bags with gold to fill:
My chiefest good, my chiefe felicity,
Is to be gazing on my loues faire eie.

_SONNET. IIII._

Two stars there are in one faire firmament,
(Of some intitled _Ganymedes_ sweet face),
VVhich other stars in brightnes doe disgrace,
As much as _Po_ in clearenes passeth _Trent_.
Nor are they common natur'd stars: for why,
These stars when other shine vaile their pure light,
And when all other vanish out of sight,
They adde a glory to the worlds great eie.
By these two stars my life is onely led,
In them I place my ioy, in them my pleasure,
Loue's piercing Darts, and Natures precious treasure
With their sweet foode my fainting soule is fed:
Then when my sunne is absent from my sight
How can it chuse (with me) but be dark night?

_SONNET. V._

It is reported of faire _Thetis_ Sonne,
(_Achilles_ famous for his chiualry,
His noble minde and magnanimity,)
That when the Troian wars were new begun,
Whos'euer was deepe-wounded with his speare,
Could neuer be recured of his maime,
Nor euer after be made whole againe:
Except with that speares rust he holpen were.
Euen so it fareth with my fortune now,
Who being wounded with his piercing eie,
Must either thereby finde a remedy,
Or els to be releeu'd, I know not how.
Then if thou hast a minde still to annoy me,
Kill me with kisses, if thou wilt destroy me.

_SONNET. VI._

Sweet Corrall lips, where Nature's treasure lies,
The balme of blisse, the soueraigne salue of sorrow,
The secret touch of loues heart-burning arrow,
Come quench my thirst or els poor _Daphnis_ dies.
One night I dream'd (alas twas but a Dreame)
That I did feele the sweetnes of the same,
Where-with inspir'd, I young againe became,
And from my heart a spring of blood did streame,
But when I wak't, I found it nothing so,
Saue that my limbs (me thought) did waxe more strong
And I more lusty far, and far more yong.
This gift on him rich Nature did bestow.
Then if in dreaming so, I so did speede,
What should I doe, if I did so indeede?

_SONNET. VII._

Sweet _Thames_ I honour thee, not for thou art
The chiefest Riuer of the fairest Ile,
Nor for thou dost admirers eies beguile,
But for thou hold'st the keeper of my heart,
For on thy waues, (thy Christal-billow'd waues,)
My fairest faire, my siluer Swan is swimming:
Against the sunne his pruned feathers trimming:
Whilst _Neptune_ his faire feete with water laues,
Neptune, I feare not thee, not yet thine eie,
And yet (alas) _Apollo_ lou'd a boy,
And _Cyparissus_ was _Siluanus_ ioy.
No, no, I feare none but faire _Thetis_, I,
For if she spie my Loue, (alas) aie me,
My mirth is turn'd to extreame miserie.

_SONNET. VIII._

Sometimes I wish that I his pillow were,
So might I steale a kisse, and yet not seene,
So might I gaze vpon his sleeping eine,
Although I did it with a panting feare:
But when I well consider how vaine my wish is,
Ah foolish Bees (thinke I) that doe not sucke
His lips for hony; but poore flowers doe plucke
Which haue no sweet in them: when his sole kisses,
Are able to reuiue a dying soule.
Kisse him, but sting him not, for if you doe,
His angry voice your flying will pursue:
But when they heare his tongue, what can controule,
Their back-returne? for then they plaine may see,
How hony-combs from his lips dropping bee.

_SONNET. IX._

_Diana_ (on a time) walking the wood,
To sport herselfe, of her faire traine forlorne,
Chaunc't for to pricke her foote against a thorne,
And from thence issu'd out a streame of blood.
No sooner shee was vanisht out of sight,
But loues faire Queen came there away by chance,
And hauing of this hap a glym'ring glance,
She put the blood into a christall bright,
When being now come vnto mount _Rhodope_,
With her faire hands she formes a shape of Snow,
And blends it with this blood; from whence doth grow
A lonely creature, brighter than the Dey.
And being christned in faire _Paphos_ shrine,
She call'd him _Ganymede:_ as all diuine.

_SONNET. X._

Thus was my loue, thus was my _Ganymed_,
(Heauens ioy, worlds wonder, natures fairest work,
In whose aspect Hope and Dispaire doe lurke)
Made of pure blood in whitest snow yshed,
And for sweete _Venus_ only form'd his face,
And his each member delicately framed,
And last of all faire _Ganymede_ him named,
His limbs (as their Creatrix) her imbrace.
But as for his pure, spotles, vertuous minde,
Because it sprung of chaste _Dianaes_ blood,
(Goddesse of Maides, directresse of all good,)
Hit wholy is to chastity inclinde.
And thus it is: as far as I can proue,
He loues to be beloued, but not to loue.

_SONNET XI._

Sighing, and sadly sitting by my Loue,
He ask't the cause of my hearts sorrowing,
Coniuring me by heauens eternall King
To tell the cause which me so much did moue.
Compell'd: (quoth I) to thee will I confesse,
Loue is the cause; and only loue it is
That doth depriue me of my heauenly blisse.
Loue is the paine that doth my heart oppresse.
And what is she (quoth he) whom thou dos't loue?
Looke in this glasse (quoth I) there shalt thou see
The perfect forme of my fælicitie.
When, thinking that it would strange Magique proue
He open'd it: and taking of the couer,
He straight perceau'd himselfe to be my Louer.

_SONNET. XII._

Some talke of _Ganymede_ th' _Idalian_ Boy,
And some of faire _Adonis_ make their boast,
Some talke of him whom louely _Læda_ lost,
And some of _Ecchoes_ loue that was so coy.
They speake by heere-say, I of perfect truth,
They partially commend the persons named,
And for them, sweet Encomions haue framed:
I onely t'him haue sacrifized my youth.
As for those wonders of antiquitie,
And those whom later ages haue inioy'd,
(But ah what hath not cruell death destroide?
Death, that enuies this worlds felicitie),
They were (perhaps) lesse faire then Poets write.
But he is fairer then I can indite.

_SONNET. XIII._

Speake Eccho, tell; how may I call my loue? _Loue._
But how his Lamps that are so christaline? _Eyne._
Oh happy starrs that make your heauens diuine:
And happy Iems that admiration moue.
How tearm'st his golden tresses wau'd with aire? _Haire._
Oh louely haire of your more-louely Maister,
Image of loue, faire shape of Alablaster,
Why do'st thou driue thy Louer to dispaire?
How do'st thou cal the bed wher beuty grows? _Rose._
Faire virgine-Rose, whose mayden blossoms couer
The milke-white Lilly, thy imbracing Louer:
Whose kisses makes thee oft thy red to lose.
And blushing oft for shame, when he hath kist thee,
He vades away, and thou raing'st where it list thee.

_SONNET. XIIII._

Here, hold this gloue (this milk-white cheueril gloue)
Not quaintly ouer-wrought with curious knots,
Not deckt with golden spangs, nor siluer spots,
Yet wholsome for thy hand as thou shalt proue.
Ah no; (sweet boy) place this gloue neere thy heart,
Weare it, and lodge it still within thy brest,
So shalt thou make me (most vnhappy,) blest.
So shalt thou rid my paine, and ease my smart:
How can that be (perhaps) thou wilt reply,
A gloue is for the hand not for the heart,
Nor can it well be prou'd by common art,
Nor reasons rule. To this, thus answere I:
If thou from gloue do'st take away the g,
Then gloue is loue: and so I send it thee.

_SONNET. XV._

A[h] fairest _Ganymede_, disdaine me not,
Though silly Sheepeheard I, presume to loue thee,
Though my harsh songs and Sonnets cannot moue thee,
Yet to thy beauty is my loue no blot.
_Apollo_, _Ioue_, and many Gods beside,
S' daind not the name of cuntry shepheards swains
Nor want we pleasure, though we take some pains,
We liue contentedly: a thing call'd pride,
Which so corrupts the Court and euery place,
(Each place I meane where learning is neglected,
And yet of late, euen learnings selfe's infected)
I know not what it meanes, in any case:
Wee onely (when _Molorchus_ gins to peepe)
Learne for to folde, and to vnfold our sheepe.

_SONNET. XVI._

Long haue I long'd to see my Loue againe,
Still haue I wisht, but neuer could obtaine it;
Rather than all the world (if I might gaine it)
Would I desire my loues sweet precious gaine.
Yet in my soule I see him euerie day,
See him, and see his still sterne countenaunce,
But (ah) what is of long continuance,
Where Maiestie and Beautie beares the sway?
Sometimes, when I imagine that I see him,
(As loue is full of foolish fantasies)
VVeening to kisse his lips, as my loues fee's,
I feele but Aire: nothing but Aire to bee him.
Thus with _Ixion_, kisse I clouds in vaine:
Thus with _Ixion_, feele I endles paine.

_SONNET. XVII._

Cherry-lipt _Adonis_ in his snowie shape,
Might not compare with his pure Iuorie white,
On whose faire front a Poets pen may write,
Whose rosiate red excels the crimson grape,
His loue-enticing delicate soft limbs,
Are rarely fram'd t'intrap poore gazing eies:
His cheekes, the Lillie and Carnation dies,
With louely tincture which _Apolloes_ dims.
His lips ripe strawberries in Nectar wet,
His mouth a Hiue, his tongue a hony-combe,
Where Muses (like Bees) make their mansion.
His teeth pure Pearle in blushing Correll set.
Oh how can such a body sinne-procuring,
Be slow to loue, and quicke to hate, enduring?

_SONNET. XVIII._

Not _Megabætes_ nor _Cleonymus_,
(Of whom great _Plutarch_ makes such mention,
Praysing their faire with rare inuention)
As _Ganymede_ were halfe so beauteous.
They onely pleas'd the eies of two great Kings,
But all the worlde at my loue stands amazed,
Nor one that on his Angels face hath gazed,
But (rauisht with delight) him Presents brings.
Some weaning Lambs, and some a suckling Kyd,
Some Nuts, and fil-beards, others Peares and Plums,
Another with a milk-white Heyfar comes;
As lately _Ægons_ man (_Damætas_) did:
But neither he, nor all the Nymphs beside,
Can win my _Ganymede_, with them t'abide.

_SONNET. XIX._

Ah no; nor I my selfe: though my pure loue
(Sweete _Ganymede_) to thee hath still beene pure,
And euen till my last gaspe shall aie endure,
Could euer thy obdurate beuty moue:
Then cease oh Goddesse sonne (for sure thou art,
A Goddesse sonne that canst resist desire)
Cease thy hard heart, and entertaine loues fire,
Within thy sacred breast: by Natures art.
And as I loue thee more then any Creature,
(Loue thee, because thy beautie is diuine;
Loue thee, because my selfe, my soule is thine:
Wholie deuoted to thy louelie feature),
Euen so of all the vowels, I and V,
Are dearest vnto me, as doth ensue.

_SONNET. XX._

But now my Muse toyld with continuall care,
Begins to faint, and slacke her former pace,
Expecting fauour from that heauenly grace,
That maie (in time) her feeble strength repaire.
Till when (sweete youth) th'essence of my soule,
(Thou that dost sit and sing at my hearts griefe.
Thou that dost send thy shepheard no reliefe)
Beholde, these lines; the sonnes of Teares and Dole.
Ah had great _Colin_ chiefe of sheepheards all,
Or gentle _Rowland_, my professed friend,
Had they thy beautie, or my pennance pend,
Greater had beene thy fame, and lesse my fall:
But since that euerie one cannot be wittie,
Pardon I craue of them, and of thee, pitty.

FINIS.

_AN ODE._

Nights were short, and daies were long;
Blossoms on the Hauthorn's hung:
_Philomœle_ (Night-Musiques-King)
Tolde the comming of the spring.
Whose sweete siluer-sounding voice
Made the little birds reioice:
Skipping light from spray to spray,
Till _Aurora_ shew'd the day.
Scarce might one see, when I might see
(For such chaunces sudden bee)
By a well of Marble-stone
A Shepheard lying all alone.
Weepe he did; and his weeping
Made the fading flowers spring.
_Daphnis_ was his name (I weene)
Youngest Swaine of Summers Queene.
When _Aurora_ saw 'twas he.
Weepe she did for companie:
Weepe she did for her sweete sonne
That (when antique _Troy_ was wonne)
Suffer'd death by lucklesse fate,
Whom she now laments too late:
And each morning (by Cocks crew)
Showers downe her siluer dew.
Whose teares (falling from their spring)
Giue moysture to each liuing thing,
That on earth increase and grow,
Through power of their friendlie foe.
Whose effect when _Flora_ felt,
Teares, that did her bosome melt,
(For who can resist teares often,
But Shee whom no teares can soften?)
Peering straite aboue the banks,
Shew'd herselfe to giue her thanks.
Wondring thus at Natures worke,
(Wherein many maruailes lurke)
Me thought I heard a dolefull noise,
Consorted with a mournfull voice,
Drawing nie to heare more plaine,
Heare I did, vnto my paine,
(For who is not pain'd to heare
Him in griefe whom heart holdes deare?)
Silly swaine (with griefe ore-gone)
Thus to make his piteous mone.
Loue I did, (alas the while)
Loue I did, but did beguile
My deare loue with louing so,
(VVhom as then I did not know.)
Loue I did the fairest boy,
That these fields did ere enioy.
Loue I did, fair _Ganymed;_
(_Venus_ darling, beauties bed:)
Him I thought the fairest creature;
Him the quintessence of Nature:
But yet (alas) I was deceiu'd,
(Loue of reason is bereau'd)
For since then I saw a Lasse.
(Lasse) that did in beauty passe,
(Passe) faire _Ganymede_ as farre
As _Phœbus_ doth the smallest starre.
Loue commaunded me to loue;
Fancy bade me not remoue
My affection from the swaine
Which he cannot graunt the crauer?)
Loue at last (though loath) preuailde;
(Loue) that so my heart assailde;
Whom I neuer could obtaine:
(For who can obtaine that fauour,
Wounding me with her faire eies,
(Ah how Loue can subtelize,
And deuize a thousand shifts,
How to worke men to his drifts.)
Her it is, for whom I mourne;
Her, for whom my life I scorne;
Her, for whom I weepe all day;
Her, for whom I sigh, and say,
Either She, or els no creature,
Shall enioy my loue: whose feature
Though I neuer can obtaine,
Yet shall my true loue remaine:
Till (my body turn'd to clay)
My poore soule must passe away,
To the heauens; where (I hope)
Hit shall finde a resting scope:
Then since I loued thee (alone)
Remember me when I am gone.
Scarce had he these last words spoken,
But me thought his heart was broken;
With great griefe that did abound,
(Cares and griefe the heart confound)
In whose heart (thus riu'd in three)
ELIZA written I might see:
In Caracters of crimson blood,
(VVhose meaning well I vnderstood.)
Which, for my heart might not behold,
I hyed me home my sheep to folde.

FINIS.

_CASSANDRA._

Vpon a gorgious gold embossed bed,
With Tissue curtaines drawne against the sunne,
(Which gazers eies into amazement led,
So curiously the workmanship was done,)
Lay faire _Cassandra_, in her snowie smocke,
Whose lips the Rubies and the pearles did locke.

And from her Iuory front hung dangling downe,
A bush of long and louely curled haire;
VVhose head impalled with a precious Crowne
Of orient Pearle, made her to seeme more faire:
And yet more faire she hardly could be thought,
Then Loue and Nature in her face had wrought.

By this, young _Phœbus_ rising from the East,
Had tane a view of this rare Paragon:
Wherewith he soone his radiant beames addresst,
And with great ioy her (sleeping) gazed vpon:
Til at the last, through her light cazements cleare,
He stole a kisse; and softly call'd her Deare.

Yet not so softly but (therwith awak't,)
Shee gins to open her faire christall couers,
Wherewith the wounded God, for terror quakt,
(Viewing those darts that kill disdained louers:)
And blushing red to see himselfe so shamed
He scorns his Coach, and his owne beauty blamed.

Now with a trice he leaues the azure skies,
(As whilome _Ioue_ did at _Europaes_ rape,)
And rauisht with her loue-a[l]luring eies,
He turns himselfe into a humane shape:
And that his wish the sooner might ensue,
He sutes himselfe like one of _Venus_ crew.

Vpon his head he wore a Hunters hat
Of crimson veluet, spangd with stars of gold,
Which grac'd his louely face: and ouer that
A siluer hatband ritchly to behold:
On his left shoulder hung a loose Tyara,
As whilome vs'd faire _Penthesilea_.

Faire _Penthesilea_ th' _Amazonian_ Queene,
When she to Troy came with her warlike band,
Of braue Viragoes glorious to be scene;
Whose manlike force no power might withstand:
So look't _Apollo_ in his lonely weedes,
As he vnto the Troian Damzell speedes.

Not faire, _Adonis_ in his chiefest pride,
Did seeme more faire, then young _Apollo_ seemed,
When he through th'aire inuisibly did glide,
T'obtaine his Loue, which he Angelike deemed;
Whom finding in her chamber all alone,
He thus begins t'expresse his piteous mone.

O fairest, faire, aboue all faires (quoth hee)
If euer Loue obtained Ladies fauour,
Then shew thy selfe compassionate to me,
Whose head surpriz'd with thy diuine behauior,
Yeelds my selfe captiue to thy conqu'ring eies:
O then shew mercy, do not tyrannize.

Scarce had _Apollo_ vtter'd these last words
(Rayning downe pearle from his immortall eies)
When she for answere, naught but feare affords,
Filling the place with lamentable cries:
But _Phœbus_ fearing much these raging fits,
With sugred kisses sweetely charm'd her lips.

(And tells her softly in her softer eare)
That he a God is, and no mortall creature:
Wherewith abandoning all needlesse feare,
(A common frailtie of weake womans nature)
She boldly askes him of his deitie,
Gracing her question with her wanton eie.

Which charge to him no sooner was assignde,
But taking faire _Cassandra_ by the hand
(The true bewraier of his secrete minde)
He first begins to let her vnderstand,
That he from _Demogorgon_ was descended:
Father of th'Earth, of Gods and men commended.

The tenor of which tale he now recites,
Closing each period with a rauisht kisse:
Which kindnes, she vnwillingly requites,
Conioyning oft her Corrall lips to his:
Not that she lou'd the loue of any one;
But that she meant to cozen him anone.

Hee briefly t'her relates his pedegree:
The sonne of _Ioue_, sole guider of the sunne,
He that slue _Python_ so victoriouslie,
He that the name of wisdomes God hath wonne,
The God of Musique, and of Poetry:
Of Phisicke, Learning, and Chirurgery.

All which he eloquently reckons vp,
That she might know how great a God he was:
And being charm'd with _Cupid's_ golden cup
He partiallie vnto her praise doth passe,
Calling her tipe of honour, Queen of beauty:
To whom all eies owe tributary duety.

I loued once, (quoth hee) aie me I lou'd,
As faire a shape as euer nature framed:
Had she not been so hard t'haue beene remou'd,
By birth a sea-Nymph; cruell _Daphne_ named:
Whom, for shee would not to my will agree,
The Gods transform'd into a Laurell tree.

Ah therefore be not, (with that word he kist her)
Be not (quot[h] he) so proud as _Daphne_ was:
Ne care thou for the anger of my sister,
She cannot, nay she shall not hurt my _Cass:_
For if she doe, I vow (by dreadfull night)
Neuer againe to lend her of my light.

This said: he sweetly doth imbrace his loue,
Yoaking his armes about her Iuory necke:
And calls her wanton _Venus_ milk-white Doue,
VVhose ruddie lips the damaske roses decke.
And euer as his tongue compiles her praise,
Loue daintie Dimples in her cheekes doth raise.

And meaning now to worke her stratagem
Vpon the silly God, that thinks none ill,
She hugs him in her armes, and kisses him;
(Th'easlyer to intice him to her will.)
And being not able to maintaine the feeld,
Thus she begins (or rather seemes) to yeeld.

VVoon with thy words, and rauisht with my beauty,
Loe here _Cassandra_ yeelds her selfe to thee,
Requiring nothing for thy vowed duety,
But only firmnesse, Loue, and secrecy:
Which for that now (euen now) I meane to try thee,
A boone I crave; which thou canst not deny me.

Scarce were these honywords breath'd from her lips,
But he, supposing that she ment good-faith,
Her filed tongues temptations interceps;
And (like a Nouice,) thus to her he saith:
Aske what thou wilt, and I will giue it thee;
Health, wealth, long life, wit, art, or dignitie.

Here-with she blushing red, (for shame did adde
A crimson tincture to her palish hew,)
Seeming in outward semblance passing glad,
(As one that th'end of her petition knew)
She makes him sweare by vgly _Acheron_,
That he his promise should performe anon.

Which done: relying on his sacred oath,
She askes of him the gift of prophecie:
He (silent) giues consent: though seeming loath
To grant so much to fraile mortalitie:
But since that he his vowes maie not recall,
He giues to her the sp'rite propheticall.

But she no sooner had obtain'd her wish,
VVhen straite vnpris'ning her lasciuiuous armes
From his softe bosom (th'aluary of blisse)
She chastely counterchecks loues hote alarmes:
And fearing lest his presence might offend her,
She slips aside; and (absent) doth defend her.

(_Muliere ne credas, ne mortuæ quidem._)

Looke how a brightsome Planet in the skie,
(Spangling the Welkin with a golden spot)
Shootes suddenly from the beholders eie,
And leaues him looking there where she is not:
Euen so amazed _Phœbus_ (to descrie her)
Lookes all about, but no where can espie her.

Not th'hungry Lyon, hauing lost his pray,
With greater furie runneth through the wood,
(Making no signe of momentarie staie,
Till he haue satisfi'd himslfe with blood,)
Then angry _Phœbus_ mounts into the skie:
Threatning the world with his hot-burning eie.

Now nimbly to his glist'ring Coach he skips,
And churlishlie ascends his loftie chaire,
Yerking his head strong Iades with yron whips,
Whose fearefull neighing ecchoes through the aire,
Snorting out fierie Sulphure from theire nosethrils:
Whose deadly damp the worlds poore people kils.

Him leaue me (for a while) amids the heauens,
VVreaking his anger on his sturdie steedes:
Whose speedful course the day and night now eeuens,
(The earth dis-robed of her summer weedes)
And nowe black-mantled night with her browne vaile,
Couers each thing that all the world might quaile.

When loe, _Cassandra_ lying at her rest,
(Her rest were restlesse thoughts:) it so befell,
Her minde with multitude of cares opprest,
Requir'd some sleepe her passions to expell:
Which when sad _Morpheus_ will did vnderstand,
He clos'd her eie-lids with his leaden hand.

Now sleepeth shee: and as shee sleepes, beholde;
Shee seemes to see the God whom late shee wronged
Standing before her; whose fierce looks vnfold,
His hidden wrath (to whom iust ire belonged)
Seeing, shee sighs, and sighing quak't for feare,
To see the shaddow of her shame appeare.

Betwixt amaze and dread as shee thus stands,
The fearefull vision drew more neere vnto her:
Aud pynioning her armes in captiue bands
So sure, that mortall wight may not vndoe her,
He with a bloudy knife (oh cruell part,)
With raging fury stabd her to the heart.

Heerewith awaking from her slumbring sleepe,
(For feare, and care, are enemies to rest:)
At such time as _Aurora_ gins to peepe
And shew her selfe; far orient in the East:
Shee heard a voice which said: O wicked woman,
Why dost thou stil the gods to vengeance summon?

Thou shalt (indeede) fore-tell of things to come;
And truely, too; (for why my vowes are past)
But heare the end of _Ioues_ eternall doome:
Because thy promise did so little last,
Although thou tell the truth, (this gift I giue thee)
Yet for thy falsehood, no man shall beleeue thee.

And (for thy sake) this pennance I impose
Vpon the remnant of all woman kinde,
For that they be such truth professed foes;
A constant woman shall be hard to finde:
And that all flesh at my dread name may tremble,
When they weep most, then shall they most dissemble.

This said _Apollo_ then: And since that time
His words haue proved true as Oracles:
Whose turning thoughtes ambitiously doe clime
To heauens height; and world with lightnes fils:
Whose sex are subject to inconstancie,
As other creatures are to destinie.

Yet famous _Sabrine_ on thy banks doth rest
The fairest Maide that euer world admired:
Whose constant minde, with heauenly gifts possest
Makes her rare selfe of all the world desired.
In whose chaste thoughts no vanitie doth enter;
So pure a minde _Endymions_ Love hath lent her.

Queene of my thoughts, but subiect of my verse,
(Divine _Eliza_) pardon my defect:
Whose artlesse pen so rudely doth reherse
Thy beauties worth; (for want of due respect)
Oh pardon thou the follies of my youth;
Pardon my faith, my loue, my zeale, my truth.

But to _Cassandra_ now: who hauing heard
The cruell sentence of the threatning voice;
At length (too late) begins to waxe affeard,
Lamenting much her vnrepentant choice:
And seeing her hard hap without reliefe,
She sheeds salt teares in token of her griefe.

Which when _Aurora_ saw, and saw t'was shee,
Euen shee her selfe whose far-renowmed fame
Made all the world to wonder at her beauty,
It mou'd compassion in this ruthfull Dame:
And thinking on her Sonnes sad destinie,
With mournfull teares she beares her companie.

Great was the mone, which faire _Cassandra_ made:
Greater the kindnesse, which _Aurora_ shew'd:
Whose sorrow with the sunne began to fade,
And her moist teares on th'earths green grasse bestow'd:
Kissing the flowers with her siluer dew,
Whose fading beautie, seem'd her case to rew.

Scarce was the lonely Easterne Queene departed,
From stately _Ilion_ (whose proud-reared wals
Seem'd to controule the cloudes, till _Vulcan_ darted
Against their Tower his burning fier-bals)
When sweet _Cassandra_ (leauing her soft bed)
In seemely sort her selfe apparelled.

And hearing that her honourable Sire,
(Old princely _Pryamus Troy's_ aged King)
Was gone into _Ioues_ Temple, to conspire
Against the _Greekes_, (whom he to war did bring)
Shee, (like a Furie), in a bedlam rage,
Runs gadding thither, his fell wrath t'assuage.

But not preuailing: truely she fore-tolde
The fall of _Troy_ (with bold erected face:)
They count her hare-brain'd, mad, and ouer-bold,
To presse in presence in so graue a place:
But in meane season _Paris_ he is gone,
To bring destruction on faire _Ilion_.

What, ten-yeeres siedge by force could not subuert,
That, two false traitors in one night destroi'd:
Who richly guerdon'd for their bad desert,
Was of _Æneas_ but small time inioi'd:
Who, for concealement of _Achilles_ loue,
Was banished; from _Ilion_ to remoue.

King _Pryam_ dead and all the Troians slaine;
(His sonnes, his friends and deere confederates)
And lots now cast for captiues that remaine,
(Whom Death hath spared for more cruell fates)
_Cassandra_ then to _Agamemnon_ fell,
With whom a Lemman she disdain'd to dwell.

She, weepes; he, wooes; he would, but she would not:
He, tell's his birth; shee, pleades virginitie:
He saith, selfe-pride doth rarest beauty blot:
(And with that word he kist her louingly:)
Shee, yeeldingly resists; he faines to die:
Shee, fall's for feare; he, on her feareleslie.

But this braue generall of all the _Greekes_,
Was quickly foyled at a womans hands,
For who so rashly such incounters seekes,
Of hard mis-hap in danger euer stands:
Onely chaste thoughts, vertuous abstinence,
Gainst such sweet poyson is the sur'st defence.

But who can shun the force of beauties blow?
Who is not rauisht with a lonely looke?
Grac'd with a wanton eie, (the hearts dumb show)
Such fish are taken with a siluer hooke:
And when true loue cannot these pearles obtaine
_Vnguentum Album_ is the only meane.