No sooner had the Sun chas'd night away,
And that the Worlds discouerer, bright-eyd day,
Poasting in triumph through the enameld skie,
Had to the people showne this victorie,
But that poore Philos (in himselfe forlorne)
Hasted to tell his Loue that it was morne.
The milke-white path that leadeth vnto Ioue,
Whereon the Gods continually doe moue,
Compar'd with that, which leadeth to her bed,
Was not so white, nor so enameled.
A paire of milke-white staires, whiter than white,
Was the next way vnto his chiefe delight:
Vp those he mounted; and as by he paste,
Vpon a wall were sundry stories plaste:
Sweet weeping Venus, crying out amaine
For the dear boy that by the bore was slaine:
Skie-ruling Ioue lamenting ore a Cow,
That seemd to weepe with him the sweetest Io:
And there the picture of proud Phaeton,
Mounting the chariot of the burning Sun,
Was portraied, by which Apollo stood,
Who seemd to check his hot sonnes youthful blood:
One hand had holde, and one legge was aduanst,
To climbe his longing seat; but yet it chanst,
That warned by his father so, he staid
A while, to heare whose teeres might well perswade;
Which with such plenty answerd his desires,
As though they striu'd to quench ensuing fires:
Hanging so liuely on the painted wall,
That standers by haue sought to make them fall.
The chamber, where his hearts delight did lie,
Was all behung with richest Tapistrie;
Where Troies orethrow was wrought, & therwithall
The goddesses dissent about the ball.
Bloud-quaffing Hector all in compleat steele,
Coping Achilles in the Troian feeld,
Redoubling so his sterne stroaks on his head,
That great Achilles left the field, and fled;
Which was so liuely by the Painter done,
That one would sweare the very cloth did runne.
Trecherous Vlysses bringing in that horse,
Which proued a fatall coffin for Troies corse.
False-hearted Synon groueling on the mire,
Whose oily words prou'd fewell to Troies fire.
Flint-brested Pyrrhus with an iron mace
Murdring the remnants of great Priams race.
Vertuous Æneas, with the armes of Greece,
Venturing for Troy as Iason for his fleece.
And vpward if you lookt, you might behold
The roofe of it all wrought in burnisht gold:
Whereon was figur'd heauen; and there anent
The Gods in state riding to Parliament.
Gold-showring Ioue vpon a milke-white steed
Rode first in ranke; on whose imperiall head
A triple crowne was plac't, at which before
Two matchlesse diamonds for worth he wore:
On whose right hand Idalian Ganymed
A massie scepter strongly carried:
But on his left, swift-winged Mercurie
A dreadfull thunderbolt (earths feare) did whurrie.
Next Ioue, Apollo came: him followed Fame
Baring a lawrell, on which sweet Sydneys name
In golden letters, plainly to be read,
By the Nine Muses had beene charrectred:
On whose each side Eternitie and Praise
Enroll'd mens deeds, and gaue them fame to raise.
Then furious Mars came next with sulphure eies,
Flashing forth fire as lightning from the skies;
Whose vncontrolled crest and battered shield
Greeke-wounding Hector and Æneas held.
Light-headed Bacchus with a cup of golde
Brimfull of wine, next Mars his place did holde;
The which quaft off, one reeling on before
Filled againe, and still supplied more.
Him followed sicknesse, by excesse, being lead,
With faint weake hands holding his pained head.
Thus was the roofe adorn'd: but for the bed,
The which those sacred limmes encanaped,
I could say much: yet poised with her selfe,
That gorgeous worke did seeme but drossy pelfe.
All-conquering Loue inspire my weaker Muse,
And with thy iocund smiles daigne to infuse
Heauen-prompted praises to my vntaught story,
That I may write her worth, and tell thy glory.
Vpon her backe she lay (Ô heauenly blisse!);
Smiling like Ioue, being couzend of a kisse;
The enuious pillow, which did beare her head,
Was with it selfe at warre, and mutined:
For if the midst receiu'd her chaste impression,
Then the two ends would swell at such a blessing;
And if she chanst to turne her head aside,
Gracing one end with natures only pride,
The rest for enuy straight would swell so much,
As it would leape asunder for a touch.
Her Sun-out-shining eyes were now at set,
Yet somewhat sparkling through their cabinet;
Her scorne white forehead was made vp by nature,
To be a patterne to succeeding creature
Of her admiring skill: her louely cheeke,
To Rose, nor Lyllie, will I euer leeke,
Whose wondrous beautie had that boy but prou'd,
Who died for loue, and yet not any lou'd,
Neuer had riuer beene adorned so,
To burie more then all the world could shew.
Her sweetest breath from out those sweeter lips,
Much like coole winde which from the valleys skips
In parching heat of Summer, stealeth forth,
Wandring amongst her haire; her wel formd mouth:
No art hath left vs such proportion,
To modell out so true perfection.
Her smoothe moist hands the sheets kept from his sight,
Lest by comparing, they should staine their white.
As thus she lay like Venus in her pride,
(Tempting sweet Adon, lowring by her side)
Philos approcht, who with this sight strooke dumbe
Came stealing on to see, and being come,
His greedie eye, which on the sudden meets
So many various and delicious sweets,
As rackt with pleasure (neuer hauing fill)
Would faine looke off, and yet would looke on still.
Thus do we surfet on our sudden ioyes,
And ranck-fed pleasure thus it selfe destroyes:
For when his eye doth light vpon her hand,
He then protests, that that is whitenesse land;
But when the whitenesse of her whiter brow
Doth steale his eye from thence, he sweareth now
Her brow is fellowlesse without all peere;
When being snatcht off vnto her fairer haire,
He vowes, the Sun, which makes trees burnisht gold,
Is not so faire, nor glorious to behold:
The viewing the strains which through those cheeks appeare,
And that pure whitenesse which triumpheth there,
Mixt with those azure Saphire passing vaines,
Which are insert like siluer running streames,
Watring those golden apples of the brests,
Where heauens delight & earths contentment rests,
His full-fed eye orecome with such excesse,
Sweares and forsweares, denies and doth confesse:
Then doth he touch her lips, Natures rich treasure,
And musing thinks which is the greatest pleasure
To kisse or see; for to resolue which doubt,
Againe he kisses, whence comes stealing out
So sweet a breath as doth confound his sence;
For rarest obiects hurt with excellence:
Then doth he seise her hand with softest straine,
Whose moist rebound doth easily detaine
A willing guest, who purposely could wish
Noother food, but such a well-grac't dish.
Whiles thus poore Philos kisses, feeles and sees,
Heauen-staining Licia opes her sparkling eyes,
And askt the hopelesse Louer, if mornes eye
Had out-stript night. Philos made answer, I.
And thus the Louer did continuallie:
For why, such lustre glided from her eie,
Which darkt the Sun, whose glory all behold,
So that she knew not day, till some man told.
Which office she to Philos had assign'd,
Because she had him alwayes most in mind:
Which had he knowne, he would not so haue spent
The restlesse nights in drery languishment,
Tumbling and tossing in his lothsome bed,
To flie from griefe, yet that still followed.
Then rising vp, and running here and there,
As if he could outrun or lose his care;
But being vp, and finding no reliefe,
Lookt in his heart, and there he found out griefe.
How cam'st thou hither (then amaine he cries)
To kil my heart? Griefe answerd, Thr dayly pray for quicke possession;
Who had offended thee, that blinde with rage
Thou strookst at him, for whom succeeding age
Will curse thy bones? Physitians be thy baine,
And chase thee hence to lowest hell againe.
He hearing this, from pleasing death reuiues,
And drunke those teeres from her immortall eies,
Which drop by drop sought other to displace,
That each might kisse that sweet and daintie face.
Nor doth the Soueraigne of heauens golden fires,
After a storme so answer mens desires,
When with a smiling countenance he orelooks
The flowrie fields and siluer streaming brooks,
As Licia in his life was comforted,
Whom new before she thought for to be dead:
She locks her fingers in his crisped haire,
And pulles it out at length, which leauing there,
The haire bands backe at it for ioy had leapt,
To be a prisoner to hand so white:
And then she stroaks his alabaster skin,
And chucks the boy on his immortall chin,
Glassing herselfe within his matchlesse eyes,
Where little Cupids conquering forces lies.
Faire Deere (quoth he) to night now wil I leaue you,
But in your charge my heart I will bequeath you;
Securely sleepe, lest in your troubled brest
If you chance sigh, you keepe my heart from rest;
Which I protest hath many a tedious night
Counted times minutes for your absent sight:
What for the nuptials will seeme requisit,
That to your charge (faire creature) I commit,
Which ere the bright Sun with his burning beame
Hath twice more coold his tresses in the maine,
Shall be performd. This sayd, away he's gone.
Farewell (quoth she:) and at that word a groane
Waited with sighs and teeres, which to preuent,
For feare his sweet heart she should discontent,
Vnto her needle in all haste she goes,
For to beguile her passions and her woes.
She first begins a smocke, of greater cost
Than Helen wore that night when as she lost
Her husbands fame and honour, and thereby
Had almost kept our now lost dignitie:
For Paris first, when as he came to bed,
On that rich smocke was so enamoured,
And so attentiuely beheld the same,
That he forgot almost for what he came:
For on the coller and the seame before
Was big-bon'd Hercules and the Minetaure,
Both wrought so liuely, that the bloud which came
From that deformed beast, did seeme to staine
Her smocke below; which running here and there
Workt in red silke, did new and fresh appeare;
Which made yong Paris doubt, and thinke indeed
She was not well, and askt and she did bleed;
And would needs see: but wide the curtains drawn,
There was some iewell sparkled through the lawn,
Which pleasd him so, that he had quite forgot
The curious working of the rich wrought smocke.
But loue-blest Licia in her smocke delights
To worke of pleasing tales and marriage rites,
Of louers sweet stolne sports, and of the rapes
Of gods immortall, and of maidens scapes:
There might you see Mars conquering Venus shrowd,
Sea-torne Æneas in a foggie cloud
Making for Carthage; entring all vnseene
To the rich temple where the Tyrian Queene
(Flashing forth beautie from her star-like eies)
Sate in her throne to heare the Troians cries.
Beneath this same she wrought a boistrous storme,
Whereas the mercy-wanting winds had torne
The tops of loftie trees, and rent the roots
Of stately Cedars and of aged oakes:
The horrid thunder with his dreadfull claps
Made yawn the mouth of heauen, from whose great gaps
The fearefull lightning flasht: and then againe
Ioue squeesd the clouds, & powrd down snow & rain.
In this same storme she wrought the Tyrian Queene
And great Æneas, who that day had beene
Hunting the fallow deere, and thither camex
To shrowd themselues from tempest and raine.
Into a bushie caue hard by they got,
Which thicke set trees did couer ore the top;
In which the Carthage Queene Æneas led,
Who there deceiu'd her of her maidenhead.
A scarfe besides she made of cunning frame,
Whereas Alcides club and armour throwne,
His lion skin put off, in maids attire
He grad the wheele at Omphales desire.
And all this night she banisht sleepe by worke,
Who in her chamber priuily did lurke,
Tempting her eye-lids to conspire with him,
Who often times would winke and ope again:
But now bright Phoebus in his burning car
Visits each mortall eye and dimmes each star,
The nights sole watch-man, when she casts aside
Her curious worke, and doth in haste prouide:
For the faire fountaine which not far off stands,
Whose purling noise vpon the golden sands
Inuites each weary wandring passenger
To see and taste those streames which are so cleare.
The louing banks like armes seeme to embrace it,
Vpon the which there grew (the more to grace it)
All sorts of coloured flowers, which seemd to looke
And glasse themselues within that siluer brooke.
Plentie of grasse did euery where appeare,
Nurst by the moisture of the running riuer,
Which euer flourishing still a beautious greene,
Shewd like the palace of the Summers Queene:
For neither frost nor cold did nip those flowers,
Nor Sunburnt Autumne parch those leafie bowers:
And as she goes to bathe, the tender grasse
Twineth about her, loth to let her passe:
Here loue-strucke brambles plucke her by the gown,
There roses kisse her as she walks along.
When being come vnto the riuer side,
Looking about, for feare she should be spide,
She stript her naked, standing on the brinke,
When the deere water, who ten yeeres did thinke
Till she was in, conspired with the banke,
That downe it fell, and all vnwares she sanke
Vp to the brests; then it inclos'd her round,
Kisses each part, and from the purling ground
The vnder-streames made haste to come and view
Those beauties which no earth could euer shew.
The slimy fishes with their watry finnes
Stand gazing on her, and close by her swimmes,
And as she mou'd they mou'd, she needs no bait,
For as when Orpheus plaid, so do they wait.
And purple Titan, whom some fogs did shrowd,
Perforce brake forth from his imprisond cloud
To gaze vpon her, whose reflecting beames
When hot she felt, she leaues the watry streames;
Which they perceiuing, lessened her strength,
To make her stay; yet out she got at length:
For which the waters are at enmitie
With the Sunnes bright and glorious maiestie,
And euery morning, ere Apollo rise,
They send blacke vapours vp to his darke eies,
And maske his beautie, that he be not seene
To hinder them of such a blessed blessing.
Now vp she gets, and homeward fast she goes,
And by the way is musing of the ioyes
To morrowes day should yeeld, and wisht it come;
But her swift wishes ouergoe the Sunne,
Which to her thinking, like a tired man
Heauily loaden, vp a hill doth come.
Ay me (quoth she) had Thetis Daphnes grace,
Then wouldst thou ierke thy horses, and apace
Scowre through the azurd skie: but for she's old,
Wanting white snowy armes for to enfold
Thy golden body, therefore thou doest moue
(As though new parted from some amorous loue)
Not like a man trudging with more than haste,
That he might clip his louers melting waste.
Were I the ruler of that fierie teame,
Bloud would I fetch, and force them leape amaine
Into the sea, and ouerspread the skie
With pitchie clouds, their darkesome liuerie.
Yet home she hies in hope to finde the boy
Which soone would turne those sorrowes into ioy:
But he was absent; for much time he spent
To make his horse fit for the Turnament,
Which with his curtelax and drery lance
He meant to holde her beautie to aduance:
When missing him, she knew not how to spend
The weary day, nor bring it to end;
But calls her maid to beare her companie,
And willed her to tell some historie
Which she had read or heard, to mocke the time;
Who with a sober smile did thus beginn

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Pyramus and Thisbe

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TO THE WORSHIPFVLL

his veric friend, D. B. H. Dvnstan

Gale, wisheth all happinesse.

The worthinesse (good Captaine) of your demerits, with the benefit of your friendly curtesies, incites mee to make profer vnto you of this my vnpolished Pamphlet, humbly intreating you to vouchsafe it acceptance, in that amongst many whom I haue knowne, I could finde none more meete for the patronizing it then your self. Which if it please you, I hope it wil be the better welcom to others for your sake: and if vnconstant fortune do but once more enable me for better, then shall you find a gratefull minde ready to requite you with a double guerdeon for your former kindnesse. Thus crauing pardon for this my rash attempt, I humbly take my leaue this 25. of Nouember, 1596.
Your Worships euer devoted,
Dunstan Gale.

Dom Diego and Ginevra

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Dom Diego and Ginevra

In Catheloygne, o'repeerd by Pyren Mountaines,
(a Prouince seated in the East of Spaine,
Famous for hunting sports & cleerest fountains)
a young heroyck gallant did remaine;
Hee, Signior Dom Diego had to name,
Who for his constant faith had got such fame.
Nature had tryde her deepest skill on him,
(for so the heauen-borne powers had her desired)
With such perfection framed shee each lim,
that at her owne worke shee herselfe admired.
Maiestick Ioue gaue him a Princely grace,
Apollo wit, and Venus gaue his face.
This loue-some youth, kinde Natures fairest child,
what for his beautious loue-alluring face,
And for he was so gracious and so milde;
was deem'd of all to be of heauenly race;
Men honord him, and Maydens gaue him loue,
To make him famous Men and Maydens stroue.

Hunting he lou'd, nor did he scorne to loue,
(a truer-louing hart was neuer knowne)
Which well his Mistres cruelly did proue,
whose causelesse rigor Fame abroad hath blowne.
But now lets tell, how hee on hunting went,
And in what sports such pleasant time he spent.
Soone as the sunne had left his watry bed.
(blushing for shame that he so long had slept)
Reuiuing those which duskie Night made dead,
when for his welcom Lambes on mountains lept.
Vp starts Diego, and with shrill-voyc'd horne.
Tells hounds & huntsmen of a cleere-fac'd morne.
Cloth'd all in Greene, (Syluanus lyuery)
he wore a low-crown'd hat of finest silke,
Whose brim turnd vp, was fastned with a Ruby,
and vnderneath, a Pearle as white as milke,
A sleeueles coate of Damaske, richly laced
With Indian pearle, as thicke as could be placed.
A glistring Cutlax pendent by his side,
(he much esteem'd y^t beast-dismembring blade)
And halfe-leg'd Buskins curiously ytide
with loopes of burnisht gold full finely made,
Thus goes Diego, chiefest of his name,
With siluer-headed speare to finde some game.

Long while it was ere any sport began,
at last a Hart his big-growne hornes did shew,
VVhich (winding straight the huntsmen) gan to run
as fast as arrow from a Parthyan bow:
In whose pursute (by wil of powreful Fates)
Diego lost himfelfe, and all his mates.
Left thus alone in midst of vnknowne place,
he inuocates the fauourable ayde
Of Ariadne, who with smalest lace,
freed Monster-killing Theseus, so dismaid,
In worser Laborinth did he now remaine,
For none saue trees or beasts, could heare him plain.
In these Meanders, stragling heere and there,
goes faire Diego, listning to each sound,
Musing twixt purple hope, and palish feare,
he thought to rest him (wearied) on the ground,
But see, he heares a farre some forced noyse,
A horne, a hound, or els some human voyce.
VVith that, Desire, which scornes least tedious let,
directed him vnto that very place,
Where loe to hunt the tymerous Hare, were met
as Knights, so Ladies, fittest for that chase:
Mongst which, there came a Grace of heauely faire,
Her name Gyneura, with the golden hayre.

Her hayre of such corruscant glitterous shine,
as are the smallest streames of hottest sunne,
Like starres in frostie night, so looke her eyne,
within whose Arches Christall springs doe run,
Her cheekes faire show of purest Porphyrie,
Full curiously were typt with roseall die.
Her lips like ripened Cherries seem'd to be,
from out whose concaue Corrall-seeming Fount,
Came sweeter breath then muske of Araby,
whose teeth y^e white of blanched pearle surmount
Her necke the Lillies of Lyguria
Did much exceed; Thus looked fayre Gyneura.
These Dryades Diego then bespake,
with sugred tearmes of mildest curtesie,
And crau'd to know which way he best might take
with shortest cut, to such a Signiory,
Whereat he nam'd himselfe; when presently
The Ladies knew him (as a Neyghbour by.)
Gyneuras Mother (cheefe of all the rest)
(for that shee knew his birth and his discent)
Desir'd him home, he grants her such request,
and thanks the Fates that him such hap had lent,
For still on faire Gyneura were his eyes,
And shee reciprocally on his replyes.

These dumbe Embassadors, Loues chiefe combatants
tell (softly whispring in each others hart)
Her of humble seruice; him of acceptance;
his craued loue, hers wisht they nere might part,
Much talk they had w^t tongues, more w^t their eyes,
But (oh) most with their harts, where true loue lies.
Now were they come whereas the good old Lady
might boldly welcome her inuited guest,
Where after little talke, (Hunters are hungry)
they all sat downe vnto a soone-made feast,
The Louers fed on glaunces of their eyes,
Tis heauenly food when both do simpathize.
At last, the Lady of the house espied
the intercourse of those bright Messengers,
Who inwardly reioycing, as fast plied
hers on her daughter, fittest Harbengers,
To bid her keepe the fairest and the best
Place in her hart, to entertaine this guest.
Word back againe was sent by her faire light,
how that was done already; and replied,
The Land-lord o're his Tennant hath such might,
that he to enter in is nere denied.
I, in a little corner of my hart
Doe liue, (quoth she) he hath the greatest part.

Diego wisht thys supper nere would end,
(and yet he long'd to be in priuate place,
To ruminate vpon his fairest friend,
and to recount the beauties of her face)
So wisht Gyneura, were neuer such two,
That lou'd so deerely as these Louers doe.
The gloomy Curtaines of the tongue-lesse night,
were drawne so close as day could not be seene,
Now leaden-thoughted Morpheus dyms each sight,
now, murder, rapes, and robberies begin:
Nature crau'd rest, but restlesse Loue would none,
Diego, Loues young prentice, thus gan mone.
Oh heauens, what new-founde griefes possesse my mind,
what rare impassionated fits be these?
Cold-burning Feuers in my hart I find,
whose opposite effects worke mee no ease,
Then loue assailes the hart with hotest fight,
VVhen beauty makes her conqust at first sight.
I little dreamed of thys strange euent,
(this harts-inthraller, mindes-disturbing Loue,
VVhen with my Huntsmen to the woods I went,
Oh neere till now did I his greatnes proue,
Whose first impression in the Louers hart,
Till then nere tainted, bringeth deepest smart.

Thus lay Diego tossing in his bed,
bound to the will of all commaunding beauty,
Whom angry Cupid now in tryumph led,
expecting from his slaue all seruile duty,
Hee might haue freed his prysoner so dismaid,
For sighes and grones had double ransome paide.
In like extreames, (Loue loues extremity)
did faire Gyneura passe the long-thought night,
Shee raild against fell Cupids crueltie,
that so would tyrannize o're a Maydens spright.
There needes no blowes, quoth she, when foes doe yield,
Oh cease, take thou the honor of the field.
The valiant Greekes (faire Ilyons fatall Foes)
their tedious ten yeres siedge for Spartaes Queen
Nere thought so long; (yet long it was) as those
loue-scorcht enamored (so restles) now ween
This night to be; A night if spent in care,
Seemes longer then a thousand pleasant are.
Thus lay they sleeplesse, thoughtfull, euer thinking
on sluggish humor of expected Morne,
They thought that Louers eyes were neuer winking
nor sleepe they e're in whom Loues newly borne.
Hee vow'd, when day was come, to woo his deere,
Shee swore such wooing she would gladly heare.

At last, the guyder of the firie Coach,
drying his locks wet in Eurotas floud,
Gan resalute the world with bright approch,
angry he seem'd, for all his face was bloud:
Auroraes hast had made him looke so red,
For loath he was to leaue faire Thetis bed.
Scarce were his horses put in readines,
and he himselfe full mounted on his seate,
VVhen Dom Diego full of heauines,
abroade did walke, his night talke to repeate
Some two howres spent, he in againe retires,
And sees his Mistres, whom he now admires.
Whereat inflam'd, (loue brookes no base delay,
whose fruite is danger, whose reward is paine)
With fine-fil'd termes he giues her the good day,
and blushing, she returnes it him againe.
Endimeons blush her beauty did eclypse,
His causd by Cynthiaes, hers Adonis lyps.
Boldly encourag'd by her milde aspect,
he told her that which Louers vse to tell,
How he did liue by her faire eyes reflect,
and how his hart in midst of hers did dwell.
Much eloquence he vsd, twas needles done,
To win that hart which was already won.

Ne're did the dungeon thiefe condemn'd to dye
with greater pleasure heare his pardon read,
Then did Gyneura heare his Oratorie,
(of force sufficient to reuiue the dead)
Shee needes must yield; for sure he had the Art,
VVith amorous heate to fixe Dianaes hart.
These Louers (thus in this both-pleasing parly)
were interrupted by Geneuraes Mother
VVho newly vp, (age seldome ryseth early)
gan straight salute her guest, so did he her,
Some termes of kindnes mutually past,
Shee friendly leades him in, to breake his fast.
VVhich done, (as all good manners did require)
hee thankt his Hostis for her curtesie,
And now at length went home for to retire,
where hee was looked for so earnestly,
The Lady crau'd if ere hee came that way,
To see her house, and there to make some stay.
Then heauily, and with a dying eye,
(ioylesse) hee takes his leaue of his faire Loue,
VVho for to fauour him, full graciously,
with louing count'nance gaue to him her Gloue.
Keepe this (quoth shee) till better fortune fall,
My Gloue, my Loue, my hand, my hart, and all.

At this large offer, bashfull modestie,
with pure Vermilion stain'd her all faire face,
So lookt Calystone at her great bellie,
when chast Ilythia spi'd her in such case;
Let Louers iudge how grieuous tis to part,
From two, twixt whom, there lyueth but one hart.
Nowe is hee gone, who after little travell
attain'd his house (not pleasing thought desired)
At whose late absence each one much did maruell,
but (come) at his sad lookes they more admired,
Great Cupids power, such sadnes in him bred,
VVho (erst) all louing harts in tryumph led.
One month (consum'd in pensiuenes) expir'd;
to recreate and reuiue his tyred spright,
Hee now on hunting goes, which hee desir'd,
not for the (once well-pleasing) sports delight;
But for he might some fit occasion finde,
To see his Loue, on whom was all his minde.
Where being come (suppose his sports prou'd bad)
Gyneura gaue him welcome from her hart,
The Sea-tost Lord of Ithica ne're had,
after his twentie yeares turmoile and smart,
More ioyfull welcome by his constant wife
Then had Diego from his loue, his lyfe.

Two dayes he stay'd, whence he would ne're depart
but custome wil'd that he should now returne,
Yet though he went he left with her his hart,
which for their parting heauily gan mourne,
But for worse newes had it poore hart to greeue,
In that Gyneura would so soone beleeue.
For sooner was hee not departed thence
but straight there comes a Riuall of his Loue,
VVho vnder true fidellities pretence
wrought wondrous hard Diego to remoue,
Nor could at first his oaths or vowes preuaile,
To make Gyneuraes loue one whit to faile.
For yet they lyu'd fast bound in Fancies chaines,
stryuing to passe each other in pure loue,
But (as there's nothing that for aye remaines
without some change.) so do these Louers proue,
That hottest loue hath soon'st the cold'st disdaine,
And greatest pleasures, haue their greatest paine.
For now no longer could shee so perseuer,
shee turnes to deadly hate her former kindnes,
Which still had lasted; but that Nature euer
strikes into womens eyes such dim-sight blindnes,
And such obdurate hardnes in their harts,
They see, nor knowe, not truest loues desarts.

Gyneura this confirmes against her Louer,
whom now (all guiltlesse) she condemnes to die,
That in his deede or thought did nere offend her,
vnlesse by louing her so wondrous deerelie.
Such Loue, such hate, such lyking, such disdains,
Was neuer knowne in one hart to remaine.
Thus twas; Diego had an enemie,
(immortall vertue euer lincked is,
With that pale leane-fac'd meager-hewed enuie)
who secretly (so falsely) tells his Mis.
How shee was mockt; Diego lou'd another,
And storm'd & rag'd what madnes so should moue her.
To dote on him that else where sets his Loue,
hee makes you thinke (quoth he) what ere he list,
That this is true, you easily may proue
for still he weares her fauour on his fist,
A Hawke it is; which shee (so stands the Mart)
Giues him, he you faire words, but her his hart.
VVith this incenst, (that sex will soone beleeue)
soonest when enuies broode to them display it,
I'st true (quoth shee) for true loue doth he giue,
such smooth-fac'd flattry, doth he thus repay it?
Shee neuer scan'd, the truth of this her griefe,
Loue in such cases, is of quicke beliefe.

Her loue to him was neuer halfe so great,
(though once shee lou'd him) as is now her hate,
This Momus breath (like bellowes) to her heate,
did kindle firie coales of hote debate.
Hee plyes her; and exasperates his spight,
And sweares, and vowes, hee tells her but the right.
Shee (like a franticke Froe of Thessaly
madded with Bacchus brayne-distempring liquor)
Runs here, and there, exclayming furiously
with hideous, vncouth mind-affrighting terror.
Swearing reuenge on false Diegoes head,
VVhose lying lookes in her such madnes bred.
VVherewith shee inuocates great Nemesis,
and begs the power of her deitie,
Shee tells her case, to Iustice-doing Themis,
and shewes how shee is wronged mightily.
Shee leaues no power vnsought for, or vnpraide,
That vse to helpe distressed with their aide.
VVronged Diego (little this suspecting)
now thought it time to see his deerest faire,
And (other matters of import neglecting,
hee presently to her makes his repaire.
VVhere being come, such welcome he did finde,
As at the first did much disturbe his minde.

For faire Gyneura would not now be seene,
she sent him word she scorn'd his fauning flattrie,
And much did greeue that shee so fond had beene,
to yield her hart to such deceitfull battrie:
Bid him (quoth shee) goe flatter where he list,
I like not I, that fauour on his fist.
Such hap it was, Diego then had brought
his Hawke; (the author of this fell debate)
Which well confirm'd her euer doubtfull thought,
that nowe shee was resolu'd on deadly hate,
Bid him (quoth she) depart hence from my sight,
His loath-some presence brings me irksome spight.
Twas hard; that he whose loue was neuer tainted
whose sincere faith was kept inuiolate,
Nay, in whose face all truest loue was painted,
should for his spotlesse truth be paid with hate,
Hee stone-astonied, like a Deare at gaze,
Admir'd these speeches in a wondrous maze.
At last hee crau'd this fauour he might haue,
that shee her selfe would heare what he could say,
So Neptunes Towne (quoth shee) such lycense gaue
to smooth-fac'd Synon (Ilions lost decay)
So Syrens sing vntill they haue their will,
Some poore mistrustlesse Passenger to kill.

Shee would not heare him speake (oh cruell shee)
that causelesse this would kill him with disdaine,
Hee sweares he's guiltlesse, vowes innocencie,
& in such vowes, tears down his cheeks did raine,
Those cheeks which staine the blushing of y^e morne
Gyneura now most hatefully doth scorne.
Tis strange that Maides should ere be so abused,
to credit each malicious-tongued slaue,
And to condemne a man (if once accused)
before or proofe, or tryall, hee may haue.
Too many such there be; wo's mee therefore,
Such light credulitie, I must deplore.
When sighes, salt tears, & vowes could do no good,
nor sighes, nor teares, nor vowes could pierce her hart,
In which, disdaine triumphant victor stood
holding in eyther hand a sable dart,
VVherewith he strikes true loue, & stainlesse truth,
Condemning them vnto eternall ruth.
Home goes Diego with a cheereless face,
whose steps were led by leaden-footed griefe,
VVho neuer goes but with a dead-slowe pace,
vntill hee finde some ease, or some reliefe;
Twould melt a marble hart to see that man,
(Earst, fresh as a new-blowne Rose) so ashie wan.

VVhere being come, he straight for four daies space,
locks him in his chamber, and there did poure
Huge shewers of christall rayne adowne his face,
(for sure he lou'd her deerely at this howre)
All ouerwhelm'd in waues of sea-salt teares,
Some fatall shipwrack of his life he feares.
Wherewith he calls for paper, pen, and ynck,
and for his Hawke, which presently he kild,
Die thou (quoth he) so shall my loue nere thinke,
that for thy sake to any else I yield.
And plucking of her head, straight way hee writes,
VVho (sending it as token) thus indites.
Loe heere (thou cruell faire) that gracious fauour,
the Ensigne (as thou saist) of my vntruth,
Behold in what high-priz'd esteeme I haue her
that gaue me it, the cause of all my ruth:
Looke as this Hawke, faire Loue, so is my hart,
Mangled and torne; cause thou so cruell art.
I sweare to thee by all the rites of loue,
by heauens faire head, by earth, & black-fac'd hel,
I nere meant other loue but thine to proue,
nor in my hart that any else should dwell;
Let this suffize, my ioy, my deere, my chiefe,
My griefes are too too long, though letter briefe.

Twas time to ende, for floods gusht out amaine,
out came the springtide of his brinish teares,
VVhich whatsoere hee writ blot out againe
all blubred so to send it scarce hee dares:
And yet hee did; goe thou (quoth hee) vnto her,
And for thy maister, treate, sollicite, woo her.
And pray thee (if thy Fortune be so good
as to be viewd by sunshine of her eyes)
Bid her take heede in spilling guiltlesse blood,
tell her there's danger in such cruelties:
VVith this, hee gaue it to the messenger,
Who (making speed) in short time brought it her.
Shee, when shee heard from whom the Letter came,
returnes it backe againe, and straight replied,
My friend (quoth she) hadst thou not told his name
perhaps thy Letter, had not beene denied:
VVhereat shee paus'd; but yet ile see (quoth shee)
With what perswading termes, he flatters mee.
Twas quickly read; (God knowes it was but short)
griefe would not let the wryter tedious be,
Nor would it suffer him fit words to sort,
but pens it (chaos-like) confusedly.
Yet had it passion to haue turn'd hard stones
To liquid moisture, if they heard his moanes.

But cruell shee, more hard then any flint,
worse then a Tygresse of Hyrcania,
Would not be mou'd, nor could his lines take print
in her hard hart, so cruell was Gyneura.
Shee which once lou'd him deerly, (too too well)
Now hates him more then any tongue can tell.
Oh Nature, chiefest Mother of vs all,
why did you giue such apt-beleeuing harts
To women-kind, that thus poore men inthrall,
and will not dulie waie true loues desarts?
O had their harts been like vnto their face,
They sure had been of some celestiall race.
Shee pittiles, sends backe to Dom Diego,
and sayes, his words cannot inchant her hart,
Vlisses-like, shee will not heare Calypso,
nor lend her eares to such intising arte.
Bid him (quoth she) fro henceforth cease to write,
Tell him his Letters agrauate my spight.
Full heauie newes it was to stainelesse loue,
to him that had enshrin'd her in his thought,
And in his hart had honor'd her aboue
the world; to who all else saue her seem'd nought.
Nay, vnto him, whose person, wit, and faire,
Might surely with the best make iust compare.

But (blinded as shee was) shee steemes him not,
hate and disdaine doe neuer brooke respect,
Shee did not knowe that beauties foulest blot
consisted in true-louing harts neglect.
No, she (more stubborne the the North-east wind)
VVould not admit such knowledge in her mind.
Let those who guiltleslie haue felt disdaine,
whose faithfull loue hath beene repaid with hate,
Giue rightfull iudgement of Diegoes paine
who bought his fauours at the highest rate.
This newes such pleasure in his soule had bred,
As hath the thiefe that heares his iudgement read.
After some time, hee writes againe vnto her,
hee could not thinke shee would perseuer so,
But when hee sawe her aunswere like the other
hee then surceas'd to send her any moe.
But did resolue to seeke some vncouth place,
VVhere he might (vnfound out) bewaile his case.
Thinking indeede shee by his absence might
at length intenerate her flintfull hart,
And metamorphize her conceaued spight
into true loue regardaunt of his smart;
Hee seekes all meanes (poore Louer) how to gaine
His rigorous Lady from such fell disdaine.

At last, hee calls to mind the Pyren Mountaines,
those far-fam'd, woody hills of wealthy Spaine,
Which for wild Beasts, & siluer visag'd Fountaines,
hath got the praise of all that there remaine;
Hether postes Dom Diego fraught with griefe,
Hoping those woods would yield him some reliefe.
VVhere, being come, all Pilgrim-like attir'd,
hee pryes about to see if hee could finde,
Some house-like Caue, for rest hee much desir'd,
his body now was wearie, as his minde.
O Gods (quoth hee) if youth finde such distresse,
VVhat hope haue I, of future happines.
VVith that hee sees a Rocke made like a Cabin
all tapistred with Natures mossie greene,
VVrought in a frizled guise, as it had been
made for NapÆa, Mountaines chiefest Queene,
At mouth of which grew Cedars, Pines, & Firs,
And at the top grew Maple, Yough, and Poplers.
So, heere (quoth hee) ile rest my wearied bodie
in thee (delightfull place of Natures building)
VVill I erect a griefe-fram'd Monasterie,
where night & day my prayers ile ne're cease yielding,
To thee my deere; (no other Saint I haue)
Oh lend thine eares, to him that his hart gaue.

Two dayes were spent in this so pleasant seate,
(this stone-built Pallace of the King content)
Before Diego tasted any meate,
or once did drinke, more then his eyes had lent.
O irresisted force of purest Loue,
Whom paines, thirst, hunger, can no whit remoue.
Sometimes, when as he scans her crueltie,
& feeles his paines (like Hydreas head) increasing,
Hee wisht the Scithian Anthropophagie
did haunt these woods that liue by mans flesh eating;
Or else the Thracian Bessi, so renound,
For cruell murdring, whom in woods they found.
That so the Gordyon knot of his paine
indissoluble e'rewhiles he did lyue,
Might be vntide when as his hart were slaine,
when he (Ô restfull time) shold cease to grieue;
But yet the Sisters kept his vitall breath,
They would not let him dye so base a death.
Some other times when as he waies her beautie,
her Venus-stayning face so wondrous faire,
Hee then doth thinke to waile tis but his dutie
sith caus'd by her that is without compaire,
And in this moode vnto high Ioue hee prayes,
And praying so, hee thus vnto him sayes.

Great Gouernour of (wheele-resembling) Heauen,
commaund thy vnder Princes to mayntaine,
Those heauely parts which to my loue th'aue giuen,
Ô let her ne're feele death, or deaths fell paine.
And first vpon thy Sister lay thy mace,
Bid her maintayne my Loues maiestick grace.
Inioyne the strange-borne mother-lesse Mynerua,
and her to whom the fomie Sea was Mother,
Still to vphold their giftes in my Gyneura:
let wit and beautie lyue vnited with her;
With sweete mouth'd Pytho I may not suspence,
Great Goddesse; still increase her eloquence.
Thou musicall Apollo gau'st her hand,
and thou her feete (great Sun-Gods deerest loue)
To such your rare-knowne gyfts all gracious stand;
and now at last this doe I craue great Ioue,
That when they dye (perhaps they dye aboue)
Thou wilt bequeath these gyfts vnto my Loue.
On euery neighbour Tree, on euery stone
(hee durst not far range from his secure Caue)
VVould he cut out the cause of all his moane,
and curiouslie with greatest skill ingraue:
There needed no Leontius, his Art,
Griefe carueth deepest, if it come from th'hart.

VVhen some stone would not impression take
hee straight compares it to his Mistris hart,
But stay, (quoth he) my working teares shall make
thee penetrable with the least skil'd art.
Oh had my teares such force to pierce her mind,
These sorrowes I should loose, and new ioyes find.
Thou euer-memorable stone (quoth hee)
tell those whom fate or fortune heere shall lead,
How deerely I haue lou'd the cruel'st shee
that euer Nature or the world hath bred.
Tell them her hate, and her disdaine was causelesse,
Oh, leaue not out to tell how I was guiltlesse.
Whereat, the very stone would seeme to weepe,
whose wrinkled face wold be besmeard with tears
O man what ere thou be, thy sorrowes keepe
vnto thy selfe, quoth hee; ile heare no cares.
Tell them that care not, tell Gyneura of thee,
We stones are ruthfull, & thy plaints haue pierc'd mee.
VVith this, hee seekes a russet-coated Tree,
& straight disclothes him of his long-worne weed
And whilest hee thus disroabes him busilie,
hee felt his halfe-dead hart a fresh to bleed.
Greeuing that hee should vse such crueltie,
To turne him naked to his foe, windes furie.

But now vncas'ed, hee gins to carue his cares,
his passions, his constant-lyuing Loue,
When (loe) there gushes out cleere sap like teares
which to get forth from pryson mainly stroue,
Since pitty dwells (quoth hee) in trees and stone,
Them will I loue; Gyneura, thou hast none.
Yet needs I must confesse thou once didst loue mee,
thy loue was hotter then NimphÆum hill,
But now wh? time affords me, means to proue thee,
thy loue then Caucase is more cold and chill,
And in thy cold, like Aethiopyan hue,
Thou art not to be chang'd from false to true.
O looke (faire Loue) as in the springing Plant
one branch intwines and growes within another,
So growe my griefes; which makes my hart to pant
when thicke-fetcht sighes my vitall breath doth smother,
I spoild my cruelty am adiudg'd to death,
Thus all alone to yield my lyuing breath.
Thou hast the fayrest face that e're was seene,
but in thy breast (that Alablaster Rocke)
Thou hast a fouler hart; disdaine hath beene
accounted blacker then the Chimnies stocke.
O purifie thy soule my dearest Loue,
Dislodge thy hate, and thy disdaine remoue.

But all in vaine I speake vnto the wind,
then should they carry these my plaints vnto her,
Mee thinks thou still shouldst beare a gentle mind,
(deere-louing Zephire) pray, intreate, & woo her;
Tell her twere pittie I should dye alone,
Here in these woods wher non can heare me mone.
But tis no matter, shee is pittylesse
like the Scycilian stone that more tis beate
Doth waxe the harder; stones are not so ruthlesse,
which smallest drops doe pierce though nere so great:
If Seas of teares would weare into her hart,
I had ere this beene eased of my smart.
Thus in these speeches would Diego sit
bathing his siluer cheekes with trickling teares,
VVhich (often running downe) at last found fit
channells to send them to their standing meares,
VVho at his feete (before his feete there stood
A poole of teares) receau'd the smaller flood.
Ne're had the world a truer louing hart,
Abydos cease to speake of constant loue,
Por sure (thou Sygnior Dom Diego) art
the onely man that e're hates force did proue;
Thy changelesse loue hath close inrol'd thy name,
In steele-leau'd booke of euer-lyuing fame.

That wide-mouth'd time w^c swallows good desarts
shall shut his iawes, & ne're deuoure thy name,
Thou shalt be crown'd with bayes by louing harts,
and dwell in Temple of eternall Fame;
There, is a sacred place reseru'd for thee,
There, thou shalt liue with perpetuitie.
So long liu'd poore Diego in this case
that at the length hee waxed somwhat bold,
To search the woods where hee might safely chase,
(necessitie, thy force cannot be told)
The fearefull Hare, the Connie, and the Kid,
Time made him knowe the places where they bid.
This young-year'd Hermit, one day mong the rest
as hee was busilie prouiding meate,
VVhich was with Natures cunning almost drest,
dri'd with the Sunne new readie to be eate,
Inrag'd vpon a suddaine throwes away
His hard-got foode; and thus began to say.
O cruell starres, Step-mothers of my good,
& you, you ruthlesse Fates what meane you thus,
So greedely to thirst for my harts blood,
why ioy you so in vnuniting vs?
Great powres infuse some pitty in her hart
That thus hath causelesse caus'd in me this smart.

I ne're was wont to vse such Cookerie,
to drudge & toile wh? pesants take their pleasure,
My noble birth scornes base-borne slauerie,
this easelesse lyfe hath neither end nor measure;
Thou great Sosipolis looke vpon my state,
Be of these nere-hard griefes compassionate.
I feele my long-thought life begin to melt
as doth the snowe gainst midday heate of Sunne,
(Faire loue) thy rigour I haue too much felt,
oh, at the last with crueltie haue done,
If teares thy stonie hart could mollifie,
My brinish springs should floe eternallie.
Sweet loue, behold those pale cheekes washt in woe
that so my teares may as a mirror be,
Thine owne faire shaddowe liuely for to shoe,
and portraite forth thy Angel-hued beautie.
Narcissus-lyke then shouldst thou my face kisse,
More honny sweete, then Venus gaue Adonis.
Feare not Gyneura, faire Narcissus hap;
thy necke, thy breast, thy hand is Lilly-white,
They all are Lillies tane from Floraes lap;
ne're be thou chang'd vnlesse to loue from spite,
Oh that thou wer't but then transformed so,
My Sommers blisse, would change my winters woe.

If thou did'st knowe in what a loathsome place,
I spend my dayes sad and disconsolate,
VVhat foggie Stigian mists hang o re my face,
thou would'st exile this thy conceaued hate;
This Hemisphere is darke, for Sol him shroudes,
My sighes doe so conglomerate the cloudes.
I tolde thee, I, (thou cruell too seuere)
when hate first gan to rise how I was guiltlesse,
Thine eares were deaffe, y^e wouldst not harken ere
thy hart was hardned, rockie, pittilesse.
Oh had mine eyes been blind wh? first they view'd thee,
Would God I had been tonglesse wh? I sew'd thee.
But thou wast then as readie to receaue
as I to craue; Ô great inconstancie,
O twas that fatall houre did so bereaue
my blisfull soule of all tranquillitie:
Thou then didst burne in loue, now froz'd in hate,
Yet pittie mee, sweete mercy ne're comes late.

Mirrha

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To his belooued; the

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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