[...]VIDS [...]OICAL [...]ISTLES, [...]nglished BY [...] Sherburne. G

‘ [...]ur tenues—’

LONDON Printed by E.G. for W. Cooke, at his shop in Holborne, neare Furnivalle Inne 16 [...].

W. Marshall. sculpsit.

OVIDS HEROICAL EPISTLES, ENGLISHED BY John Sherburne. Gent.

Conamur tenues—

LONDON, Printed by E. G. for William Cooke, and are to bee sold at his shop in Holborne, neare Furnivalls Inne. 1639.

TO THE RIGHT WORSHIPFUL SIR EDWARD BASH, Knight, &c. One of the Chamberlaines of his Maties Exchequer.

THat I have thus cho­sen patron, and by a dedication singled you, know Sir, it is an act not enterpriz'd without consulted thoughts: I often leveld, and you still became my marke: For if wee beare (as indeed wee should,) a thankefull commemoration, even of all by-re­spects, how much more then ought wee to intend the maine, and more immediate? Had my choise beene made otherwise I should have swer­ved Ab officio; and there is a gratefull [Page]remembrance rests in mee, which would have prompted me I had done amisse. Large courtesies, ask large ac­knowledgements. Many there are, who by indeavours of this kind, have sought to render satisfaction for be­nefits received: but no such con­struction must be made of mine; whose utmost end and scope, is only to shew you the ready will I beare to doe you service. And if you shall vouchsafe to esteeme them, but as the shaddowes, of what I desire to demonstrate by more reall effects; you have then tooke the hight of my intentions. The subject I confesse somewhat too light for your eare: oft conversant in more serious studies. wherefore it is taught a becomming distance; nor is it to harbour least hope of your perusall, untill you have taken truce with time, and meane to passe it with varietie: then if you shall reade, it may perhaps not dis­please [Page]you. My errors in the perfor­mance, (some being necessarily inci­dent to humanity,) I submit unto your censure: which I know will be like your selfe; mild, and candid. I had rather be imputed ignorant, then ingratefull. Receive then (Noble Sir) these first fruits of my pen; a present (I ingenuously acknowledge) farre beneath your merits: yet, how much the lesse that is in quality, so much the more shall be your praise in the acceptance: and you shall for ever bind me to bee, as well in act, as word

Your servant, I. SHERBVRNE.

The Preface. Scribimus indocti, docti (que) Poemaesa passim.

IT was the complaint of old; yet never could it more justly bee taken up then now: In this Papi­rivorous Age, wherein that Scripturientum Pruritus, doth every where, so more then abundantly raigne; the swarming issues of whose petu­lant braines, have induced such a nau­seousnes, and utter loathing of the Muses banquets, as it is a thing almost past hope, to find an unperverted pallat. The very Title of a Poem even startled at, and the worke itselfe, to some scarce lesse odious then a Libel. So great a mischiefe hath licentious scribling, brought on that more excellent kind of writing. But this I leave unto the satyrist. And that I may not bee thought censoriously arrogant to blame [Page]that act in others, which I may seeme my selfe to have committed; the Iudicious Reader may be pleased to take notice, that no vain desire of praise, nor giddy humour to bee seen in print, hath thus brought me into publique view. But an humble, and modest hope, of rectifying the wrongs our Author hath sustained through the rude attempts of a too-too busie pen: And al­though this was the chiefe and sole cause of this publication (the worke having a long time lain by me:) yet will I not say, that herein I have wrought an actuall performance of the same; But the suc­cesse thereof, I leave to the censure of the conferring Reader. I am not ignorant of a sort of curious ones, that looke for wonders from a translati­on: when indeed they ought rather to checke, and limit their expectation: far different is the case with one who in his course exspatiates at randome, and with another, who is forc't to tread the steps of a fore-runner. Yet if they wil vouchsafe to [Page]come without prejudicate, and peremp­torie opinions; they may herein meet with a strictnesse (such as is requisite) in the words, and a respective care towards the meaning of our Author; a sweetnesse too, asmuch as could conueniently be attained; having throughout observed a verse for verse traduction. For although in the Latine Elegiacke, that same In pedibus vitium be Causa decoris; Yet through the often close of the Pentameter, the genuine, sweet, and fluent statelines of the English Decasyllable, is much enerved. To plead my paines in the translation, were a thing which I will not, nor cannot doe: since I never made it other then my recreation, my sport. Though indeed the worke is such as might well deserve both a knowing, and a labouring Quill; and which that seldome erring critique, Sca­liger hath thought good thus to censure. Epistolae omnium (Ovidii) librorum politissimae, nam & sententiae sunt illu­stres facilitas, & composita, & numeri [Page]Poetici. If through my unskilfull copy­ing I have any wayes impayred the worth and lustre of the principall; so as it may now seeme unworthy of those Elogies; yet through kind acceptance of this my first draught, & a friendly advertisement I shall hereafter endeavour to render it somewhat agreeable. For as I shall con­temne, and neglect, whatsoever proceeds from ignorance and detraction: so again, shal I alwayes be most ready (as Polyclete of old with his more curious peeces) to a­mend whatsoever the judicious censurer shall think worthy the correcting pensil.

To his loving brother M. Iohn Sherburn on his Translation of OVIDS Heroicall Epistles.

WErt thou like those whose works and selves; depend
For praise, on the fond largesse of some friend;
My verse might here a welcome room obtaine:
Which now perhaps, will name of flattery gaine.
Tis hard to write when praises may offend;
And such my fate were, should I here commend.
I am too neare. Yet knowe thy paines shall live;
What I cannot, others thy worke will give:
Thy worke which shall to after-times endure
'Gainst Sciolists, and Zoilists secure.
Ed. Sherburne.

Ejusdem in interpretem, & opus HEXASTICON.

ANglia, quos meritis, ingrata negavit honores
Roma, iterum Publi, reddidit alma, tuis.
Ecce ut conversâ florent tua carmina linguâ!
Nec minus haec dederint, quam decus illa tibi.
Romanos fertur Cantare Britannia Versus:
Discet at Angliacos Roma superba modos.
E. S.

To his worthy friend M. Iohn Sherburne.

INgenious Ovid, these heroick layes,
Thou didst not chant with Cipresse crownd, but bayes.
Being Phoebus sweetest swan in Tybers streames,
Hatcht by his heate, eterniz'd by his beames.
No Tyrants spleene had exil'd thee as yet,
Had exild thee; that is, Romes choycest wit.
Smooth as thy fortune ran thy happy lines,
Sweet as thy Cupids tresses, lovers twines.
Soft as the lips of Venu [...] Mars his greet,
White as dame Iunos wrists, or T [...]etis feet.
Thy quill was either pluckt from Paphian doves,
Or from the wings of him who darts out loves.
And thine, my friend, Thalia did hee send
From the same pinions; with this one commend,
That thou should'st vindicate thy Bard; being pent
In a farre worse then Tomos banishment.
You have releast him, this your fame shall be:
Caesar check-mate, reverst is thy decree.
Edm. Colman.

ERRATA.

PAg. 18. lin. 14. far unnat [...]ral re [...]d incestuous. p. 29. l. 29. for owe read give. p. 32. l. 17. for shee read slye. p. 35. l. 12. for Mace read Mate. p. 36. l. 9. for Lemnian deeds read Lem­nian's deed. [...]tem l. 10. for s [...]nds read lends. p. 61. l. 18. for this read thus. p. 62. l. 7. for this read thus. Item l. 29. for me read we. p. 85. l. 1. for Troy read Greece. p. 97. l. 16. for then read the. p. 102. l. 30. for hop read hap. for weight read wight. p. 105. l. 8. for the read thee. p. 107. l. 20. for wofull read ire­full. p. 108. l. 3. for waves read gales. p. 111. l. 2. for the read to. Item l. 27. for these read thee. p. 115. l. 29. for subtile, read supple. p. 118. l. 17. for heaven re-iuspheard, read hea­ven-inspheard. p. 119. l. 6. for lovely read lonely. Item l. 20. for some read fame. Item l. 31. for saile read faile p. 122. l. 17. for So read G [...].

THE ARGVMENT of PENELOPE'S Epistle to ƲLYSSES.

THe Grecians intending to revenge the Rape of He­len, having prepared a powerfull Armie, in which most of the Achaian Princes adventured themselves: Vlysses the sonne of Laertes, and Anticlea, lately marryed to the faire Penelope, and hath to be so soone divorc't from her embraces, to shun employment fain'd himselfe mad: but was discovered by Palamedes, and forced with the rest to imbarke for Troy. After many valiant actions, the ten yeares warre, and finall de­struction of the City; returning homewards he was (through the malice of Minerva) severed from the fleet, and as many yeares wandred on unknowne seas, whose absence much grieved the chast Penelope, who now sol­licited with a troope of lascivious sutors, whom with her deluding webbe shee still delayd, mov'd with doubts both of her husbands love, and wellfare, her young Sonnes danger through this riotous rout, Laertes old age, and many other urging accidents, she wrot this Epistle to her long absent Lord.

TO thee Vlysses, that too long dost stay,
Sends thy deare wife: write not, but come thy way.
[Page 2] Troy's now destroy'd that Grecian maids did grutch,
Scarce Priam and his towne was worth so much.
Would God, (when first to Lacedamon bound)
Th'adultrer had i'th'angry waves been drownd.
In no cold bed I matelesse then had lain,
Nor of dayes slow pac't howres should thus com­plain,
No spindle then my widdowed hands should tyre,
Whilst I to spend nights tedious watch desire.
When fear'd not I'worse then indeed things were!
True love is alwaies filld with anxious feare,
Oft I suppose fierce Trojans thee assaile;
And Hectors name but heard, I straight grow pale.
Of young Antilochus by Hector slaine
If any tell, his fate procures my paine,
Or stout Patroclus fall in faigned dresse,
Oft weepe I, doubting of thy wiles Successe
That Lycian lance Tlepolem's blood did warme
My care's renewed through his dismall harme.
Lastly, whosore among'st the Argives fell:
My heart in coldnesse doth the Ice excell.
But Hymen my chast love did not despise,
My spouse is safe, and Troy in ashes lyes.
The Greeke peeres are return'd, the altars smoake,
And to the Gods are given the spoyles they took.
Each nymph to her safe spouse, glad gifts doth bring▪
And they to them, the Trojan fates doe sing,
Old men and mayds admiring silence keep,
And th'longing wife hangs at the tellers lip.
Some set at table tell their warres annoy,
And in a little wine, depaint whole Troy,
Here Simois flow'd, there lyes Sigeian land,
Here did old Priams stately Palace stand,
Here pitcht Achilles Tents, Vlysses there:
Here did torne Hector, the swift horses scare.
[Page 3]Whats'ere was done, unto thy son (whom wee
Had sent to seeke thee) Nestor told, he mee.
How Rhesus and how Dolon both were slaine,
This in his sleepe, that by deceitfull traine.
Dar'dst thou that too too much thine own dost slight
Enter the Thracian camp in shade of night?
And slay so many helpt by one alone,
Farre, farre more wary thou wert one day knowne,
How my heart beat when first I heard men say
Through troops thou stol'st th' Ismorian horse away!
What boots it mee that Troy's by you or'ethrowne
That now there's soyle, where was a wall of stone?
If I as when it stood, doe still remaine,
And thou thy selfe dost from my bed abstaine?
Troy's downe to some, to me alone it stands,
Although with oxe the victor plow those lands:
Wel rip'ned corn now grows where once Troy stood;
And [...]h' ground Luxuriats with Phrygian blood.
Halfe buried bones of men, by crooked plowes
Are torne, and grasse on ruin'd houses growes:
Yet thou art absent, nor wil't let me know
Where thou abid'st, or why thou lingrest so.
Whose're his wandring vessell puts to shore,
Hee still goes thence, of thee askt o're and o're,
And from my hands receives (if thee hee see)
A letter, to deliver unto thee.
I sent to Pylon ancient Nestors seat,
But I from Pylon no sure newes could get.
From thence to Sparta: Sparta could not tell
Where thou abod'st, or in what place didst dwell.
Oh that Apollo's walls did yet remaine,
(But I am angry with that wish againe)
Then should I know, and warres should only feare,
Then should I meet with partners in my care.
[Page 4]What I should feare I know not, feare yet doe,
And a broad path lyes open to my woe.
What dangers are on land, or else on sea,
I deeme them causes of thy stay to be.
Thus whilest I care, what lust in thee doth move?
Thou mayst be taken with some forraigne love,
To whom perhaps thou jeer'st thy rusticke wife,
How she at spinning spends her homely life.
But I'm deceiv'd: hence idle thoughts away!
And thou that mayst returne, O doe not stay.
My father urges me againe to wed,
And blames thy long absentment from my bed.
But let him chide, I'm thine; whilst fates lend life
Penelope will be Vlysses wife.
Yet he, by my milde prayers, and speeches kinde,
At length was pleas'd, and calm'd his angry minde.
Luxurious troops of Sutors to me come,
From Zazinth, Samos, and Dulichium.
And uncontrol'd in thine owne pallace raigne,
Wasting (our stay, our life) thy well got gaine,
Pysander, Medon, and sterne [...]olybus,
Greedy Eurimachus, and Antinous,
With many more, what need I here recite?
All whom thou feedstiwith purchase of thy fight.
Poore Ire, Melanthius, both thy store doe wast;
And are mongst those that worke thy losse, the last.
We are but three in all, thy wife for one,
Laertes old, Telemachus thy sonne;
Who late, through their vile plot, was almost slaine,
Whilst he to Pylon would his way have tane.
But heavens be pleas'd, and to my wish incline;
That he my eyes may close, and close up thine.
For this the Heards-man, Swin-heard, old Nurce too
Withearnest vowes, and fervent prayers doe sue.
[Page 5]Feeble Laertes, as unapt through age,
Amongst his foes no rule, no sway can wage.
Telemachus in time may grow more strong,
Hee should be garded by thee now hee's young,
I have no force to drive my foes from home,
Oh thou, that art our onely safegard, come.
Thou hast a sonne, (long maist thou have I pray,)
Should now be train'd up in his father's way,
Thinke on La [...]rtes, whose dimme shrunke eyes thou
Ought'st to close, hee ev'n beares his last daies now.
Nay I, who when thou went'st youths dresse did wear,
At thy return, shall old, & craz'd appeare.
THE ARGVMENT OF PHILLIS her EPISTLE to DEMOTHOON.

DEmophoon the son of Theseus and Phaedra, retur­ning homewards from the Trojan warres, was by adverse stormes driven on the Thracian shores; where he was to [...]ally entertained both at Boord and Bed, by Phillis, daughter of Lycurgus and Crustumena, King and Queene of Thrace: with whom, after bee had a while re­mained, hearing of the death of Mnestheus, the deposer of his father, he went to take possession of his rea [...]me of Athens. Yet with vowes and prowises to returne unto her within the space of one mo [...]eth. B [...]t being detained past the appoyn [...]ed time, with sundry b [...]sinesses of a distracted kingdome, be gave occasion unto Phillis, impatient of de­layes, and griefes, to write unto him this Epi [...]le: wherein she conjures him to be mindfull of his promise, and to return to her as her just & vowed husband; which if [...]ee refuse, she desperately concludes by death to vindicate the wrongs done unto her mayden Chastitie.

THine Hostesse R [...]odop [...]ian Phillis, thee
Blames absent past thy promis'd time to bee.
Soone as the Moones horns met in a full round,
Thouswor'st againe to anchor on my ground.
[Page 7]Foure times sh'hath been i'th full, foure in the waine,
Yet seas bring no Actean ships againe.
If you'l but count the time, as lovers doe,
You'l finde my plaint comes not too soon to you.
Long did I hope: for slowly we believe
Ill haps, which now too sore my soule doth grieve.
Oft to my selfe I've ly'd for thee, oft thought
The windes thy swoln sayles back again had brought.
Oft Theseus curst, as one that caus'd thy stay,
And yet perhaps he hindred not thy way.
Oft fear'd, to Haebrus whil'st you bent your course,
Your Barke might suffer in the foaming sourse.
Oft for thy health have I with bended keees,
And spice-flam'd Altars, prayd to th'Deities.
Oft seeing windes with heavens and seas agreed;
I've sayd, if he be well, hee'l come with speed.
Lastly, whats'ere might hasting loves restraine,
I thought: nay, I was witty stayes to faine.
Yet thee, the witnest powers no whit do sway;
Nor com'st, as tooke with love of me, thy way.
Both winds, and sayles thou gav'st unto the winde,
Thy words want faith, thy sayles returne [...] finde.
What have I done, save rashly lov'd thee pray?
And through that crime, I have deserv'd thy stay.
One fault I had, that thee receiv'd untrue,
And yet that fault hath worth and merit due.
Wher's now thy vows, thy faith, hands joyn'd to hand?
And th'God with thy false mouth so oft prophan'd?
Where's Hymen now, both pledge and suretie too
Of our blest match, that should e're long ensue?
First by the sea, with windes tost to and fro,
Through which thou oft hadst gone, wer't then to go.
Next by thy Grandsire (if thou didst not faigne
Him too) thou swor'st, that doth mov'd seas restraine.
[Page 8]By Venus, by loves Torches and his Bow,
Weapons that have procur'd me all this woe,
By Iuno, that takes charge of married wights,
And by the Taper bearing Goddesse rites.
If each of these wrong'd powers shold venge on thee
Their wrath, thou could'st not beare their crueltie.
Nay, that the keele with which I was forsooke,
Might able be, I rig'd thy shippes late broke,
And gave thee Oares that thou might'st plow the main
Thus wounds, by mine own weapons I sustain.
Thy flattering words thy Gods thy kindred all,
Within the compasse of my faith did fall.
Trusted thy teares; can teares be said to faine?
Ev'n those had craft, and when thou would'st, would raine,
What needed there so many pledges be
Betweene us? halfe might soone have captiv'd mee.
Nor that in need I helpt thee, am I moov'd
This should the summe of my rash love have prov'd
But foully thee in bed to entertain.
And there to dally causes all my paine,
The night 'fore that would it had beene my last
Phyllis might then have honest dy'd and chast.
My hopes were better 'cause I thought I might
Through this deserve thee, and that hope's but right.
To wrong an easie mayd, no praise can prove;
My simplenesse did well deserve thy love.
A lover, and a maid, hast thou betraid;
Heavens grant that this, thy chiefest praise be sayd.
In Athens when thy statue shall be plac't,
And thy great Father 'fore his spoyles so grac't,
When Scyron, and Procrustes, shall be read,
The Mimtaure, and Scinis conquered,
Thobes wan by warre, the Centaures bick'ring,
And knockt at Palace of the shady King:
[Page 9]Mongst these, shall stand thy Image, with this Style.
This, this is he who Phyllis did beguile.
Of all thy fathers facts thou bear'st in minde
But one of Ariadne left behinde,
What he condemn'd that thou esteem'st as rare;
And onely of thy fathers fraud, art heire.
But she (nor spite I it) hath a better mate,
And drawne by harnest tygers rides in state.
The once scorn'd Thracians now my bed despise,
'Cause before them I did a stranger prize.
Whilst some cry out, let her to Athens goe;
There's those can rule the warlike Thrace we trowe.
The end still crownes the act: may his intent
Be crost yet, that still judges from th'event.
For should'st to come to me but crosse the flood,
They'l say againe I sought my countryes good,
But I have not, yet thou nor to my court
Or Bystons glassie streames dost make resort.
Thy gestures in my minde still fixed bee,
Which thou didst use when first thou wentst from me,
How dar'dst thou then embrace me so, & joyne
Such long-breath'd kisses, with these lips of mine?
And with my teares, thy moist teares mixe, & waile
As loath to part, thy too too prosp'rous gale,
And to me say, now ready to be gone,
Phyllis, see thou expect thy Demophon.
Shall I expect thee that wilt nere againe
Returne, or shippes deny'd unto my Maine?
And yet I doe: oh, come to me though late,
That thy vow'd faith may prove but false in dare.
What wish I wretch? perhaps some strange maid thee
Retaines, and love, that lightly favours mee,
Thou hast forgot thy Phyllis sure; if thou
But ask'st who I am, or from whence wouldst know:
[Page 10]Why I am she, Demophoon that same friend,
In need that did thee boord, and harbour lend,
Whose wealth did thine increase, who to thee poore
Gave many gifts, and would have giv'n farr more,
Who yeelded thee Lycurgus spacious land,
A rule unsitting for a womans hand,
As farre as Rhodope, and Haemus goes,
And sacred Haebrus with his soft streames flowes.
Whose chaster Zone thou to unloose had'st power,
And Virgin bud to crop (disastrous houre)
Tysiphone did howle those rites among,
And th'ominous owle screecht our sad mariage song.
Alecto there crownd with her snakes did stand,
The rapers light with her sepulchroll brand,
Oft to the Rockes and sedgie shores I hie,
And view the vastle as with a wandring eye,
Oft in the day, oft in the starry night,
I looke what winds 'gainst stubborne waves doe fight,
What sayles so ere from farre I comming see,
I deeme them straight my houshold Gods to bee.
Downe then I runne, spite of resisting waves,
Farre as the sea with streames the moist shore laves,
But nearer they, the worser I remaine,
I faint and fall downe midst my following traine.
A Bay there is, that like a bent bow lyes,
Whose farthest points in rugged hornes doe rise.
From thence my selfe I meant t'have thrown and wil,
Since me th'hast thus deceiv'd perform it still,
May yeelding streames me to thy shores convay,
And uninter'd me may thine eies survay.
Then though then adamant thou harder bee,
Thoult say, would thus thou hadst not followed mee.
Oft have I thought by poyscous, draughts to dye,
Or by a sword to act [...]y Tragedy.
[Page 11]Or 'bout my necke that did it selfe bequeath
To thy false armes a fatall cord to wreath,
With mature death ile recompence my wrong,
Nor in the choise thereof will dally long.
And that thou mayst be knowne as th'cause Ile have
This, or the like inscription on my grave.
Demophoon Phyllis guest did Phyllis kill,
He gave the cause, she th' [...]and, that wrought the ill.
THE ARGVMENT OF BRISEIS, her Epistle to ACHILLES.

THe Grecians at their arrivall in Phrygia, besieged and took most of the adjoyning Cities neere to Troy, amongst which the Citie Lyrnesses was utterly razed by Achilles, from whence he brought captive with him, amongst others of the noblest Damsels, Astinome, the daughter of Chryses, the Priest of Apollo Smintheus; and Hippodamia, the daughter of Briseis: both which were afterwards called by their fathers names. Chryses by lot fell to Agamemnon, Briseis to Achilles. But Agamemnon to allay the raging plague inflicted on the host by Apollo, for the contempt of­fered to his Priest, was warned to deliver Chriseis back to her father. In li [...]w of whom, he took Briseis from Achilles; which injury he so beynously brooked, that with implacable wrath he forsook the campe, vowing never more to take arms again Troy, or meddle in his countrie qu [...]rrell, though sol­licited by Agamemnon with large gifts, and even Briseis herselfe, both which be obstinately refused. Which when the sad-sould Bryseis did perceive, with all the womanish Orato­rie her grieved thoughts would affoord her, she thus at length adventured to write unto the valiant Greeke.

THE lines thou read'st from ravisht Briseis came,
whose rude hand scarce can Greekish letters frame.
What blots soe're thou seest, my tears did make,
And yet those teares the weight of words partake.
[Page 13]If of my Lord, and Spouse, it lawfull be
For to complaine, I'le then complaine of thee.
That I was given to the King, alas!
Was not thy fault, yet in some sort it was.
For being sent for, I without delay,
Was rendred them, a partner of their way.
Each on each others face casting their eye,
Wondred in silence where our Love did lye.
Well could I have defer'd, nay lov'd my stay;
Not one kisse gave I when I went away:
But teares like floods I shed, and haire displayd
I rent, againe deeming me captive made.
Oft thought I from my watchfull guard to flye,
But that I fear'd the scouting enemy,
Lest in the night they me might apprehend,
And as a gift to Priams daughters send.
But being promis'd, I must goe; yet thou
Alas neglect'st me, and thine ire's growne slow.
For parting, stout Pairoclus in mine eare
Whisper'd, why weep'st? thou shalt not stay long there.
Yet thou not seek'st me, but withstand'st the same.
Goe now and purchase an hot lovers name.
Ajax and Phenix to thee came, the one
Thy cousin, t'other thy companion.
With these La [...]tes sonne, who each by turne,
With prayers and gifts, did plead for my returne.
Twice ten braffe Caldrons shining wondrous bright,
And seven stooles equall both in art and weight.
To these ten talents of the purest gold,
And twice sixe horses, spirited and bold.
And what might well be spar'd, a beauteous traine beside
Of Lesbian damsels, that were lately tane
'Mongst which (but thou need'st none) there came
One of Atrides daughters for thy bride.
[Page 14]And is it like thou e're would'st me reprive,
That wilt not take now, what thou then shouldst give?
Ah me, what fatall crime of mine could move
'Gainst me thy scorne, how have I lost thy love?
Will fortune the distressed still disease?
Nor will a gentler gale my woes appease,
Lyrnessian walls I saw by thee or'ethrowne,
Whereof my selfe no slender part did owne.
Three neare ally'd to me by blood, by death,
There fell, 'mongst which my mother lost her breath.
I saw (his soule disseiz'd through many a wound)
My husbands bloudyed corps distaine the ground.
Yet all these lost I had amends in thee,
For thou wert husband, brother Lord, to mee.
By Azure Thetis ample deep's bright power
Thou swor'st my bondage should my weale procure,
To wit that I with all my dowre, high priz'd,
Should by Achilles be contemn'd, despis'd,
Besides 'tis fam'd, how with the rising morne
Thou'lt hoyse thy sailes and leave me here forlorne.
Which news no sooner did mine eares arrest,
Then blood, and soule fled from my fainting breast,
Wilt goe? to whom wilt wretched me bequeath,
Who to my woes shall any comfort breath.
First may I swallowed be in earths darke wombe,
Or by some missive thunder find my doome,
E're without me seas froth with Pythian Oare,
Or I behind thy ships e're quit the shore,
If thoult returne thy native home to see,
I shall no burthen to thy vessell bee.
Not as thy wife, but captive Ile be seen,
To waite on thee, I have a hand can spin,
May 'mongst the Achaian Nymphs the fairest maid
Be wise to thee and in thy bed be laid:
[Page 15]One that grave Peleus might not seeme to shunne,
Whom Nereus might for his great grandchild own.
Poore humble I my worke will onely mind,
And threads from distaffe on my spindle wind.
Only I pray let not thy wife afflict
My sufferance; she I feare, will be too strict,
Nor let her yet my scattered tresses teare,
But gently say this once was mine, forbeare.
Yet so thou scorn'st me not ile bear't and more,
The feare of that alas torments me sore,
What wouldst Atrides doth repent the ill,
And sadned Greece lyes prostrate at thy will.
Oh thou that conquerest others curb thine ire.
See how stout Hector doth thy Grecians tyre,
Take up thine armes; but first resume thy love,
And force thy foes thy vengefull wrath to prove.
For me 'twas mooved, oh let it cease for me:
May I thy cause, and end of sorrow bee.
Nor thinke it scorne to yeeld unto my prayer,
Oenides tooke armes to please his faire.
I oft have heard it, thou dost know't and how
His life his mother to hel's powers did vow.
Fierce was he in the wars, yet he laid by
His armes and did his country helpe deny,
Whom Ata [...]anta moov'd, oh happy shee,
But my slight words las of no moment bee.
Nor thinke I much at it, I ne're was thought
Thy wife but to thy bed as servant brought.
Once me a captive Lady call'd said I,
That name's a burthen to captivity.
Now by my husbands halfe toomb'd bones I sweare,
Of whom I still a reverend thought doe beare,
By my three brothers sacred soules, who well,
For their lov'd country with their Country sell,
[Page 16]By both our heads we oft have joyn'd as one,
And by thy sword, too dearely to me knowne,
That since my parture Agamemnon knew,
No bed of mine, forsake me as 't is true.
Should I aske thee that question, could'st denie
That thou with any, save with me, did'st lye?
The Grecians think thou mourn'dst, but thee soft straines
Delight, thy love thee in her lap retaines.
If any aske why thou denyest to fight,
Warr's harsh, but night, and musicke breed delight.
Tis safer farre to sport with amorous fire,
Or nimblie warble on thy Thracian lyre,
Then for to wield a shield, or shake a speare,
Or on thy smooth haire heavy Helmet beare.
Thee once farre better deeds then these did please,
And thou did'st love fame got by warre, not ease.
Wert only stout when I was captive made?
Or with my country, did thy courage fade?
The Gods forbid, oh maist thou one day hide
Thy Pelian javeline in sterne Hectors side.
Yee Greekes, send me as legate to my Lord,
I with my words sweet kisses will afford.
Not Phaenix shall, not slie Ulysses too,
Nor Teucers brother plead as I will doe.
Tis much his necke t'embrace with these known armes
And with my powerfull eye, to tye loves charmes.
Though then the Sea lesse mercifull thou bee,
I mute, my speaking teares shall worke on thee.
Nay now ev'n now (so may thy aged sire
Be blest with yeares, and Pyrrhus fame acquire)
Be mindfull of me, nor (whilst ire beares sway)
Consume thy Briseis through thy long delay.
But if thy love convert to hate, whom thou
Forcest without thee live, to fate make bow.
[Page 17]And so thou dost: my limbs and colour fade,
Yet hope of thee my parting soule hath staid.
Of which depriv'd unto my spouse Ile hie,
And brothers, worthy act to cause me die!
But why thus bid'st me die? oh! rather kill
Me with thine owne hands, I've some blood left still.
And let that sword, which had not Pallas stayd,
Had pierc't Atrides breast, my breast invade.
No rather spare my life, and to thy friend,
Contribute that thou to thy foe did'st lend,
Oh let the proud Neptun an Troy afford
Thee foes and matter for thy Warlike sword,
And whether that thou mean'st to part, or stay,
As my just Lord, command me come away.
THE ARGVMENT of PHAEDRA'S Epistle to Hippolytus.

THESEVS, the sonne of Aegeus having escaped the Labyrinth, and returning homewards with his adjutrix A [...]iadne, axd her sister Phaedra, the d [...]u [...]ers of Minos, King of Creet, in the way hee to [...]cted at the Island of Naxos; where hee leaves Ariadu [...], and with Phaedra (whom hee af [...]e wards mar [...]a) [...] a­way. But in processe of time Theseu, being a [...]s [...]t) Phaedra falles in love w [...]th Hippolytus, the sonne of [...]he­seus by Hippolita, Queene [...]f the Amazon [...]. But [...]eem love rather with manly actions, and Dia [...]'s sports, than with women, often frequenting the solitary woods, herest her of all meanes to sp [...]ake unto him. The wily stepuame resolves to write: and laying all motherly modeslie aside, stung with unnaturall lust, attempts the bashfull youth with this insinuating Epistle.

THe health she wants, except the same thou lend
Phaedra to th [...] A [...]azonian youth doth send.
Pray read my letter, how can it annoy?
Perhaps ther's in it, that may cause thy joy.
[Page 19]By these are secrets borne through seas and land,
And one foe reads what comes from th'others hand.
Thrice did I strive to speake, thrice my weak tongue
Faild me; and in my mouth my words still hung.
Oft I with shame did mixe my love, too light:
But what I blusht to speake, love bad me write.
What love commands, wee ought not to despise,
Who rules and awes the powerfull Deities.
He first to me in doubt to write, did say,
Phaedra, write on, thy love he shall obey.
Ayd me great Love, and as thou rul'st in mee,
So cause in him a mutuall sympathie.
By no base sin I'le breake my marriage vowes,
My fame, shouldst thou enquire, no stain yet knows.
Love comes more heavie through its sloath: I hide
Within me flames, my breast doth wounds abide.
As the first yoake the tender Heifer paines,
As new backt Colt the curbing hit disdaines:
So rude, so rawly love's by me indur'd,
Nor is my minde to the new load inur'd.
Full hard in giddy youth we learne loves Art,
But in our riper yeares, with paine and smart.
[...]ly fames first sacrifice shall be to thee,
And both of us alike will guiltie bee.
'Tis somthing from fraught boughs ripe fruit to cull,
And budding rose with nimble hand to pull.
Yet though my life hath hitherto been chast,
Nor by impurer spots, or taints defac't;
I grieve not, since I noble love embrace,
A foule adulterer makes his sin more base.
Should Iuno yeeld to me her thunderer,
I before Iove would Hippolite preferre.
Nay, trust me, I doe now delight in new
And unknowne sports, wilde beasts in chase pursue.
[Page 20]No goddesse now but Delia pleaseth mee,
Grac'd with her Bow, I love, I like, as thee.
Darke groves I visit, Deere to toyles constraine,
And cheer my full-mouth'd hounds o're empty plain.
The tremulous dart, with arme advanc'd, I shake,
Or on the grassie ground, repose doe take.
And oft in winged chariots while I ride,
With curbing raines the swift-heeld coursers guide.
Now like th 'Eleides whom fury fil [...],
Or those who Tymbrels ring on Ida's hils.
Or like to them whom the strange uncouth sight
Of Driad's, or the horned Fawnes affright,
I madly run: for when my fury's ceast,
They tell me all: close fires do scortch my b [...]east.
Perhaps by Fate we thus to love are bent,
And Venus tribute seekes from th'whole descent.
First Iove of faire Europa made a rape,
(For thence we spring) through Buls assumed shape:
My mother doting too on such a beast,
Foully her burthen and her crime encreast.
Faithlesse Aegides by a clew of thread,
And through my sisters ayd, his prison fled.
And loe! lest I should seeme degenerate,
Alike I yeeld unto my kindreds fate.
It is ordain'd our love thus crosse should prove,
I thee, thy father did my sister love.
By thee, and Theseu [...], are two sisters wonne,
Erect two Trophies of our house alone.
What time that I unto Eleusis went,
Would Gnossian land had kept me from th'intent.
Oh! then it was (though thou before didst please)
Fierce love my quiet members did disease.
White were thy garments, chaplets crown'd thy head,
And modest rednesse did thy cheekes o're-spread.
[Page 21]That visage which to others harsh did seeme,
I for a stout and valiant looke did deeme.
I hate your youths in womanish attires,
A manly feature little dresse requires.
Thee that thy sternnesse, haires so loosly plac'd,
And dust-soyld cheekes became, and sweetly grac'd.
When thou with rains dost cause thy Courser bound,
I'dmire to see thee nimbly ride the round.
Or when with ablearme thou throwst the dart,
Mine eyes are fixed on thy agile art.
Or when thy hunting Pole thou tak'st, with bright
Steel tipt: whats'ere thou dost doth please my sight.
Thy harshnesse to the ridged woods bequeath:
Nor is it fit for thee I suffer death.
Why so in Cynthia's sports dost so delight,
And take from Venus all her due, her right?
"What wants successive rest, can ne're endure:
"This cheeres the limbes, and doth new strength pro­cure.
Marke thou thy Delia's armes, her shafts, and Bow;
Which should it still stand bent, would limber grow.
Famous was Cephalus in woods: much game
Fell by his hands inevitable aime.
Yet hee Aurora lov'd: who oft would come
To sport with him in aged Tythons roome.
Adonis oft, and Cytherea faire,
Under some Okes large shade, the grasse did beare.
Oenides did Atalanta love;
And by his spoyles did his affection prove.
Let us at length be numbred then with these;
Take love away, and th'woods must needs displease.
I'le thy companion be, and follow o're
Darke rockie groves, nor feare the tusked Bore.
Two Seas their waves doe against Isthmos reare:
And the small earth dothboth their battries heare.
[Page 22]There in Traezena wee'l together raigne,
I now for this my native soyle disdaine.
Theseus is hence, long may he keepe away,
The young Perithous him forsooth doth stay.
Whom (except we 'gainst truth opposers bee)
He before Phaedra doth preferre, or thee.
Nor have I felt his injuries alone,
But both of us his wrongs have largely knowne.
My brothers bones, with his three knotted Mace,
He broke; and left my sister in diff [...]esse.
The chiefest 'mongst the Axe-arm'd mayds brought forth
Thee to the world, a parent full of worth.
Yet her the cruell Theseus slew; nor was
So great a son's brave-mother safe, alas!
And that 'fore marriage, lest thou mightst perchance
Obtaine his kingdome as inheritance.
Brothers thou hadst by me too: which not I,
I doe protest, but he inforc'd to dye.
And may she oh! thou fairest, that doth minde
To hinder thee, death in her labour finde.
Why now doost reverence thy fathers bed,
Which he himselfe disclaimes, and thence is fled?
Let not vaine names aff [...]ight thy manly minde,
'Cause I thy step dame am to thee so kinde.
That needlesse pietie was in Satarnes time
Esteem'd: but future yeares shall call't a crime.
Saturne's now gone, with him his lawes decay:
And Jove the world now rules; then love obay.
Who hath ordain'd that just, which doth delight,
And brothers may with sisters joyne as right.
That kindreds chaine [...] the surer link'd, whose bands
Venus herselfe tie, with conjugall hands.
Nor need we cloke our love, we'l thrive from thence,
Our kindreds name shall smother our offence.
[Page 23]If our embraces should be seene, each shall
Commend, and me a courteous stepdame call,
Nor need'st thou in the darke to ope my gate,
Or gull my Porterin thy coming late.
Wee in one house did, in one house will live,
Thou gav'st knowne kisses, shalt knowne kisses give.
With me thou shalt be safe, and freely seene
Layd in my bed, nay prais'd for this thy sinne.
Oh! then delay not, but let's straightway joyne.
So may love spare thy breast, which scorcheth mine.
Thou seest I scorne not humbly to intreat.
Where's now my pride become, my speeches great!
I once resolv'd not for to yeeld at all,
(If in our loves we ought resolv'd may call.)
Yet lo! my princely armes are rais'd to thee,
'Las! lovers know not what things fitting be!
Foyld shame hath fled his colours: oh! thou faire,
Grant my just suit, and to be coy forbeare.
What though my father rule a farre-stretcht sea,
And thunder-darting Iove great Grand-sire be?
What though my Grand-sire's front's empall'd with rayes:
Who in his purple chariot guides the dayes?
Nobilitie submits to love: encline
To pitty then; if not for me, for mine.
I for my dow [...]e possesse Crect, Ioves lov'd land:
There my whole Court shall be at thy command.
My mother mov'd a Savage Bull: wilt thou
Then fierce and stubborne beasts, more cruell grow?
For Veuus sake, thy Phaedr [...] not disdaine:
So mayst thou love, and still be lov'd againe.
So may Diana ayd thee at thy will;
So may the woods yeeld store of game to kill.
So love the Satyrs, and each turall Pane,
So may the Boare fall by thy Iaveline slaine.
[Page 24]So may the Nymphs, though thou to maids art curst
Bring thee cool streams to quench thy burning thirst.
To these I adde my teares, doe thou surmise
(And read) to see them falling from mine eyes.
THE ARGVMENT of OENONE'S Epistle to PARIS.

HEcuba the wise of Priam, being with childe of Paris, dream't that she was brought to bed of a Fire-brand: Priam consults with his prophet: who answers, that the child she went with, should prove the fatall instrument of Troy's destruction. No sooner was it borne, then Priam commands it to be exposed to the mercie of wilde beasts. But the mother secretly conveyes it to mount Ida, there to bee so­slered by the shepheards, where (growne to mans estate) hee fell in love with the Nymph Oenone, and married her. Not long after, made judge in that contention of the god­desses, about the golden apple: and for his judgement on Ve­nus side, being by her promised the fairest of women, at length knowne and acknowledged by his father; hee sayled into Greece, and from thence brought with him Helena, the wife of Menclaus. Of which when Oenone heard, trou­bled at his unexpected change, she wrote unto him this fol­lowing Epistle, wherein she indevours to recall him to her love againe, layes open the perils that are like to ensue on this his rape. And lastly, perswades him to send back Helen, and take her againe, in whose love she affirmes her onely joy, nay lise consisteth.

TO Paris hers, though hers alas! he scorne
To be; from Ida sends a Nymph for lorne.
[Page 26]Dost reade? or thy new wife forbids? yet doe,
No Mycenaan hand these letters drew.
Oenene fam'd through Phrygian woods and plaines,
Paris, so thou permit, of thee complaines,
What power? what god did our chast loves disjoyne?
Or what's my fault I should not stil be thine?
"Ills justly merited we lightly beare,
But those that come desertlesse, heavy are.
Thou wert not then so great when first I woo'd
Thee for my spouse, the off-spring of a flood.
Who now Priamides (forsooth) art prov'd,
Servant thou wert, as servant thee I lov'd,
Oft in the shade we both our flockes have fed,
Whilst leaves and grasse, affoorded us a bed,
Oft we on straw, on hay we oft did rest,
The hoary frost in homely Cot deprest.
Who now shall shew thee lawnds for game most fit?
And caves where wilde beasts with their yong do sit?
Oft have I helpt to spread thy nets distain'd,
And o're the tops of hills thy cheer'd hounds train'd
Each Beech my name carv'd out by thee doth beare;
And thy Oenone is read every where.
As they increase, so spreads my name along;
Grow, grow, and rise a witnesse of my wrong.
Close by a purling silverie brooke, there growes
A Poplar, which of me fresh record showes.
Long mayst thou live, I pray, live happy yeares,
That in thy rinde this carved Dystich beares.
When Paris lives, and doth Oenone shun,
Shall Xanthus streames back to their f [...]untaines run.
Xanthus recoyle, flow streames unto your head,
Paris the false is from Oexone fled.
That day my sate produc't, that day did prove
The frosty winter of our changed love.
[Page 27]When for thy judgement, Venus, loves proud Dame,
And Pallas (arm'd more comely) naked came.
Which when thou toldst to me, my tim'rous breast,
And limbs, were with a gelid seare opprest.
The aged I consul [...] with, they reply
And thence averre, some ominous ill was nie.
Straight was there timber for'd, a Fleet prepar'd,
And brimmed vessels on the blew seas rear'd.
Yet wept'st thou parting: do not this deny:
(On thy last love the greatest shame doth lye.)
Thou wept'st (I say) and saw'st my teares abound;
Whil'st both like sad, did teares with tears confound.
Not so the Elme's incircled by the Vine,
As was my neck claspt by those armes of thine.
How oft didst faigne the winde contrary stood?
Though smiling, thy companions saw 'twas good.
H [...]w oft thy numbred kisses didst retell?
How loth was thy sad tongue to say, Farewell!
An easie gale thy hoyst sailes fil'd: all o're
Seas froath'd with labour of thy nimble Oare.
I, whil'st I could, thy flying vessell view'd:
And the dry sands with falling teares imbrew'd.
Invok't the greene Nereides, that e're long
Thou mightst returne, to wit, unto my wrong.
'Las thee my prayers to others use brought home,
And for a harlot did I kinde become.
A mount there is, that over-lookes the seas,
Securely scorning waves vaine batteries.
Hence I thy ship view'd, as I gazing stood:
For joy I'de almost leapt into the slood.
But when I saw a purple streamer shine
On the carv'd sterne, I fear'd 'twas none of thine.
The ship's now nearer, and to shore apply'd,
A female face with trembling heart I spy'd.
[Page 52]That not enough (oh my stupiditie!)
The lustfull dame did in thy bosome lye.
Then I my garments rent, my barebreasts beat:
And tore my cheekes, with brackish teares repleat.
The sacred Ida with my force chings fil'd.
And thence, unto my home, moist teares distil'd.
May Hellen so weepe, rob'd of haplesse love,
And what sh'hath made me suffer, may she prove.
Now home thou bringst one, who hath basely fled
The sweet contentments of a lawfull bed.
Yet when a Swaines poore life thou didst embrace,
None then thy wife, save chaste Oenone was.
'Tis not thy wealth, or palace, moves me ought:
Nor strive I to be Priams daughter thought.
Though Priam need not thinke himselfe revil'd
In me; or Hecub scorn me for her childe.
I worthy am, and might a Princesse bee:
Well with my hands a Scepter would agree.
Nor scorn me, since with thee, on Beech leaves spread
I lay: I'me fitter for a purple bed.
Lastly, my love is safe; no warres disease
Thy rest, no vengefull vessels furrow seas.
Hellen is su'd for with infestive Armes,
And brings a dowrie onely great in harmes.
Whether't be fit she be return'd or no,
Thy brothers, or Polydamas will show,
Aske Priam's, aske Antenors grave advice,
Whose long experienc'd age hath made them wise.
'Tis base a rape before thy [...]ountries love
To prize: just armes her husbands wrongs do move,
Nor canst her faithfull warrant, who so soone
With ease was to thy strange embraces wonne:
As young Atrides wailes his harder fate,
By forraigne love wrong'd in his nuptiall state.
[Page 53]Which thou shalt one day doe: no Art can be
Sufficient to regaine lost chastitie.
Say she love thee, so did she Atreus sonne;
Who now lyes matelesse in his bed alone.
Thrice happy Hectors faire Andromache,
As she by him, should I be lov'd by thee,
But thou farre lighter art than leaves when dry,
Which 'fore each easie gale diffusely flye.
Lesse weight, lesse constancie in thee is borne,
Than in the slender Sun-parcht eares of corne.
Thy sister once, with haires that loosly hung,
Thus in prophetick raptures to me sung.
What dost Oenone? why on sands dost thou
Sow seeds? and shores with gainlesse oxen plow?
A Greekish heyfer, which shall thee, thy home,
And countrey spoyle (yet fate defend) doth come.
With speed, the obscene vessell sinke, what store
Alas! of Phrygrand bloud it brings to shore!
This sayd, her handmaids her with [...]rew: my haire
Like stubborne bristles, stood on end for feare.
Ah wretch, too true a prophet wert to me,
Behold that heyfer in my bounds lives free.
What though she beauteous be, she's yet unchast,
And fled from home, a strange guests love embrac't.
What Theseus 'twas I know not; but before,
One Theseus nam'd, her from her countrey bore.
And canst thou her thus ransom'd, chaste surmise?
My love alas! in this hath made me wise.
Call it a rape, doe, owe thy crime that name:
Sure she that was so oft rap't, lik't the same.
Oenone though forsooke, doth chast remaine,
Though thine owne lawes thou oughtest to sustaine.
Mee nimble Satyrs did in troopes frequent,
Whilst woods conceal'd me from their bad intent.
[Page 30]Me horned Faunus, crown'd with wreathes of Pine,
Did o're Idaean hills to search encline.
Me Troy's great Champion lov'd, and he alone,
He onely, did possesse my virgine Throne.
And that by force, yet not without torn haire,
And scornfull scarres left on his face so faire.
Nor gold, nor precious gemmes did I require:
Tis base to prostitute the corps for hire.
Yet he his physicke did to me impart,
And taught my ruder hands his helpfull Art.
What pow'rfull hearb, or healing plant doth grow,
Its secret vertues, and effects I know.
Woes me, that love no pow'rfull hearb can cure!
That stor'd with Art, I should in Art bee poore!
Ev'n Phoebus did Phaerean Oxen feed,
And inly wounded with my flames, did bleed.
And yet the helpe, no simple-bearing field,
Nor th'unshornegod can give; thou, thou, canst yield.
Thou canst, I say, and oughtst: a virgin spare:
I with the Greeks, gainst thee no Armes doe beare.
But thine I am: from childhood link't to thee:
And whilst I live, thine wish, thine pray to be.
THE ARGVMENT OF HIPSYPHILE'S Epistle to Iason.

PElias being told by the Oracle, that hee should then bee neare his death, when as at the sacrifice of Neptune hee should see a youth comming towards him with one foot bare; Iason hapning to have lost his shooe in the mudef the Riuer Avaurus, whilst he hasted to the Cerem my, and observed by his uncle, was by him (both to secure, and prolong his reigne) animated, to saile unto Colchos, to setch th [...]nce the goiden Fleete. The ambitious Jason condescends to the adventure, and forthwith building him a ship, (which of [...] the Architect's name, hee called Argo) together with the slower of the Graecian youth, commits himselfe unto the sea: by the way he toucht at the Island of Lemnos; where Hip­syphile (who alone in the massacre of the men, by the women of that countrey; had saved her father Thoas) then reigned: by whom hee was courteously entertained: where having slay'd for the space of two yeares (Hipsyphile left with childe) by the insligation of his companions, hee proceeded in his expedition, and shortly arriv'd at Colchos; where Me­dea favouring (Mars his brasse boov'd Oxen, and the watchfull Dragon overcome) hee was made moster both of the golden Fleece, and her: with whom hee secretly sayled from thence, and landed in Thessaly. Hipsyphile hearing of his returne, in this her following Epistle, she first congratu­lates [Page 56]his fortune, then blames his remisnesse in not writing unto her, inveighs against Medea, and (urg'd with memo­morie of her undeserved wrongs) concludes with execrable curses against them both.

FAme sings, that thou unto Thessa [...]ia's shore
Artsafe return'd, rich in thy fleeced Ore.
I gratulate thy health, though 'thad been good
By thine owne hands I this had understood.
Perhaps when thou didst to my kingdome mindo
To come, thou wert withstood by adverse wind.
And yet though winds were crosse, it wold have been
Small charge, t'have sent a greeting to thy Queene.
Why first did fame, and not thy letters, show
How Mars his Bulls, tam'd, drew the hated plow?
How from sowne seeds a race of Souldiers grew:
In whose spilt bloud, thou didst no hand imbrew.
How the she Dragon charm'd, did sleep obey,
Whilst thence his golden charge thou bor'st away.
Oh blessed me! if to incredulous wights
I could but say, 'tis true, so Iason writes.
But why doe I at thy neglect repine?
I have enough so I may still be thine.
'Tis fam'd, a barbarous witch with thee is come.
And made thy beds sole partner in my roome.
"Love lightly credits: yet may I be sayd
Thee fondly rash, of faigned crimes t'upbrayd.
Late from Haemonia one unto me came,
Who scarce within my dores, when I exclame
Lives, lives, my Iason: who with downe cast eyes,
Fixt stedfast on the earth, no word replies.
Forth then I leapt, my vesture rent, and sayd,
Oh! lives he, or in his; is my death made?
[Page 7]He lives sayd he: to which I made him sweare,
And scarcely could believe him, yet through feare
Reviv'd somewhat; I of thy facts domand:
Who told how Mars his Oxen plowd the land:
How from sowne serpents teeth there straight arose
A dreadfull host of ready harnest foes.
Which earth born race slain through their owne de­bate,
Fulfild the limits of their one dayes fate.
And of the Serpent foyld, then aske againe:
Whilst feare and hope strange faiths in me maintain.
Thus whilst he talk't, and did each thing display,
He somewhat closely did my wrongs bewray.
Where's now thy plighted faith? thy vowes? ah vile!
And torch more fit t'have light my funerall pile,
Yet knew'st me not by stealth: for Iuno there,
And Rose-crown'd Hymen, at my nuptials were.
Nor Iuno, nor yet Hymen, were at hand,
But dire Erynnis bore the ominous brand.
With Myniae why dealt I? Tritonian Pine?
Or why did Typhis to my shores encline?
Here was no golden Fleeced Ram, nor here
The old Acëta's stately mansions were.
At first I meant (but fate did it deny)
Hence with a feminine band to force thee flye:
(For Lemnian Ladies too too-well have fought:
With such a guard I should have safety sought.
But thee no sooner saw I, then I lov'd:
Two springs, two winters, here thou staid'st unmov'd:
The third yeare come; when thou must needs away,
With intermingled tears thou thus did'st say,
"My Deere, I must be gone (so gods decree)
"Thine I goe hence, thine will I ever bee.
"And may thy wombs blest bur then live, we prove
"To it each happy parents, full of love.
[Page 34]This said, thy trecherous eyes straight ruin'd a shore:
And well I minde it, thou couldst speake no more.
Thou wer't the last that did the ship ascend,
That scuds, fresh gales did hollow sayles extend:
And furrowing keele, the blewish billowes tore:
I to the seas still gaz'd, thou to the shore.
Close by, a tower there stood, to which I flew,
Whilst teares my bosome, and my face embrew.
Through them I look't: and my soules favouring eye
Did seeme beyond its wonted space to spy:
Adde my chast prayers, and many a fear-mixt vow,
All which (thee safe) must be performed now.
But what? shall I vowes for Medea pay?
My heart to griefe, my love to rage gives way.
Shall I beare gifts to th'Temple for thy losse?
Shall sacrifices fall for such a crosse?
Still fear'd I, lest thy Father should have chose,
And entertain'd a Grecian mayd thy spouse:
The Greekes I fear'd, a harlot breeds my woe,
And wounds are given me by an unknowne foe.
In faee, nor merits can she please; by charmes,
Hearbs by dire sickle cropt, she workes thy harmes.
She from her spheare to draw the Moone essayes,
And in darke clouds t'obscure the Suns bright rayes;
She streames, and headlong torrents makes to stand,
And woods, and mountains moves at her command.
O're graves she wanders with disheveled haires,
And from warm piles the half-burnt bones she bears.
The absent curses, waxen models frames;
And with sharpe pins their tortur'd livers maimes.
And thus (which, would I knew not) she makes sure
Her love; which forme and vertue should procure.
And canst this wretch embrace? joyn breast to brest?
And in the silent night securely rest?
[Page 35]But as the Bulls, and Serpent by her Art
She tam'd; so hath she wrought, so won thy Heart.
Besides, to thy atchievements she her name
Doth adde, and is a blot unto thy fame:
Whilst some of Pelias faction doe give out,
Charms wrought thy deeds, believ'd too 'mongst the rout.
And say, not Lsoa, but Medea bore
The rich Phryxean Fleece from Colchian shore.
Thy parents both doe this thy match withstand,
By thee brought home from Hyperborean strand:
Let her from Tanais, Scythian fennes, the wide
Phasis, her native soyle, a Mace provide.
Inconstant thou! more light than spring-tide Airel
Why doe thy words no weight of promise beare?
Mine thou wentst hence, again why cam'st not mine?
I thine was going, coming still am thine.
If high descent, great blood, thy mind can bend,
I from Minoan Thoas doe descend.
Bac [...]h [...]s my grandsire is, whose star-crownd Bride
With rayes excells each lesser signe beside.
Lemnos shall be my Dowre, a fruitfull land;
And with all these, thou shalt my selfe command.
Who now am brought to bed, (thy heart with joy
Possesse) the authour sweetned my annoy.
Blest in my number too: for me the chast
Lucina with a double birth hath grac't.
Who like their father are in face, and smile,
Save that they want their fathers fraud, and guile.
These two, as Legats, I to thee had sent,
Had not their cruell stepdame chang'd m'intent.
I fear'd Medea: (worse than stepdame) she
Hath hands still prest to all impietie.
She that could her owne brothers limbes dis-joyne,
Would she have spar'd, thinkst thou, these babes of mine?
[Page 60]Yet her (oh charmed madam) thou dost farre
Before thine owne Hipsyphile preferre.
She first knew thee in an adult'rate bed,
But with chast soules did we each other wed.
My sire I sav'd, hers she betrayd to ill:
She Colchos fled: my Lemnos holds me still.
But what need this? if bad the good ore-come,
And she in crimes rich onely, joyes my roome.
I blame, but not the Lemnian deeds admire,
For g [...]fe sends armes unto distracted ire.
Suppose (which should have been) crosse winds had bore
False thee, and thy companions on my shore.
And I t'have met thee with my double birth,
Couldst not have hid thee in the yawning earth?
With what face me or them couldst thou have seene?
Of what strange death, wretch, hadst thou worthy been?
And yet by me thou hadst been safe, & free;
Not for thy worth, but love that dwels in me.
But with her bloud I would my face have dy'd,
And thine, throgh charms, which she hath me deny'd.
I to Medea would Medea bee;
(And if the gods will to just prayers agree)
As I lament, so may she mourne, so grieve,
And her owne lawes with paine enough perceive.
As with two children spouselesse left am I,
Like fate may she with spouse and children try.
Nor ill-got goods long keepe, but basely lose,
And banisht, range the world without repose.
As to her brother, and her Sire prov'd she,
Such to her spouse and children may she be.
Seas and earth past, let her attempt the sky,
Poo [...]e, in despaire, and by selfe slaughter d [...]e.
Thus wrong'd Thbantias prayes; both man and wife,
Live in a cursed bed, a wretched life.
THE ARGVMENT OF DIDO her EPISTLE to AENEAS.

AFter the destruction of Troy, Aeneas the son of An­chises, and Venus, (having freed his children, house hold gods, and aged father from the flames) prepared a fleet, & committed himselfe to the sea, in quest of Latium: by tem­pests he was driven on the coasts of Lybia: where (if wee may rely on the authority of Virgil) both he and his compa­nions were courteously entertained by Dido, daughter of Belus, K [...]g [...]o Tyre, who had fled thither to avoyd the cru­elty of her brother Hiarbas, the inhumane murtherer of her beloved husband Sichaeus, Priest of Hercules. Not long stayd he with her, ere Mercury was sent to admonish him, and urge him on to his intended journey. The wretched Di­do having with many perswasions endevoured to restraine him from this his hoted purpose; but seeing both them, and her love lightly regarded, opprest with grief, even unto death, she wrot this her sarewell Epistle to the relentlesse Heroc.

SO when fates call, neare to Meanders spring,
Midst the moyst sedge, the snowy Swan doth sing.
Not that by words I hope thou mayst bee mov'd,
I write: I know by th'gods that's disapprov'd.
But since my fame, pure minde, and body chast,
I thus have lost, 'tis light my words to wast.
[Page 38]Art then resolv'd to leave thy Dido here?
Shall one winde hence thy sayles and promise beare?
And wilt thou with thy ships unloose thy vow?
And Latium seeke, but where thou dost not know?
Doth new built Carthage, nor the rising wall,
Or kingdome given thee, move thee not at all?
Deeds done thou fliest, undone thou seekst, & 'bout
The world thou'lt goe, to finde a strange land out.
Which when thou find'st, therin who'l let thee live?
Or who their fields to unknowne folks will give?
Another love, and Dido thou'lt goe seeke,
And plight more troths, which thou againe mayst breake.
When like to Carthage wilt thou build a Towne?
And on such people from thy Towres look downe?
Should these succeed, and nothing crosse thy vow,
Where wilt thou sinde a wife shall love thee so?
Like to a sulphurous Taper I consume,
Or Incense wasting in the sacred fume.
Aeneas still fixt 'fore my wakefull eyes:
On him in dayes, in nights my fancie lyes.
That thanklesse wretch, that scorn'd my gifts, & me,
Whom I might want, if I my good could see.
Yet him I hate not, though he meane but ill:
But his untruth bewaile, and love more still.
Oh Venus spare thy daughter: and thou Love,
Let thy false brother, thy sweet warfare prove.
Or else let him I once did love, (nor now
Doe I disdain't) at least not scorne me though.
But I'me deceiv'd, deluded, now I finde,
For he quite differs from his mothers minde.
Thee stones, and rocks, and okes on mountains bred,
And savadge beasts brought forth, and fostered.
Or else the sea, through which (thogh waves say nay)
Adventurous man, thou meanst to force thy way.
[Page 39]Where fliest? see stormes withstand thee: but for me
They doe conspire: how Eurus swells the sea!
For what to thee l'de rather owe, let me
To winds be bound; farre, farre, more just than thee.
Nor wold I thou (vile wretch that weigh'st not these)
Shouldst meet thy ruine on the forrag'd seas.
At a deare rare thou dost thy hatred buy,
If to shun mee thou thinkst it slight to dye.
Winds straight will'lye, and seas their rage restrain,
And Triton scud about the watry plaine.
Oh that with windes thy minde were chang'd, & sure
It will; oxcept than Oke thou'rt more obdure.
What wouldst didst thou not know feas rage? that thou
Having so often try'd wilt trust them now.
Though thou put forth from out a calmed bay,
yet the vast deep may yeeld thee much dismay.
Besides seas favour no perfidious men,
But sharply plague them for so foule a sin.
Chiefly whē love is wrong'd, 'cause loves great dame
They say, from Cytherean billowes came:
Yet lost I, feare lest thou that caus'd my woe,
Shouldst be destroyd, or seas entombe my foe.
No live: for so I may revenged be;
And men shall say, thou wroughtst my Tragedie.
Suppose thou wert (yet be this Omen vaine)
Seaz'd with a storme: how would thy mind remain?
Straight would occurre thy false tongues perjurie,
And Dido by thy fraud constraind to dye.
Thy wrong'd wifes shape shall to thy sight repaire,
Sad, and all bloudy, with dishevelled haire.
Then wouldst thou say, these, these, deserved bee,
And thinke what thunder falls, should light on thee.
A while to seas, and thine owne ire give way:
Good will thy stay be, safer too thy way.
[Page 64]And though not me, I [...]sus spare; since thou
Hast in my death's dire title coine enough.
What hath Ascanius, or thy gods deserv'd?
Shal waves devoure them, late from flames preserv'd?
But thou, vile wretch, for all the oaths thou swor'st,
Nor gods, nor father, on thy shoulders bor'st.
All, all, were lyes; nor did'st with me begin,
Nor fell I first in thy deceitfull gin.
A [...]'st for Creusa? know vile wretch, that she
Dy'd in despaire, alone forsooke by thee.
This me thou toldst, and it my teares did move,
My pain farre lesser than my crime shall prove.
Nor that the gods doe hate thee, can I doubt,
Seven yeares on lands, on seas, thou roam'st about.
Then I receiv'd thee, on my borders throwne,
And gave a kingdome to thee, yet scarce knowne.
Oh would with these I had contented bin!
Or were the mention silenc't of my sin.
That day wherein the thick descending raine
Forc'd us to take one cave, first caus'd my paine.
A voyce I heard, and thought the Nymphs did sing,
But they were Imps fore told my ruining.
On me wrong'd faith I did Sichaeus owe,
Take vengeance; unto whom with shame I goe.
His statue, shrin'd in Marble have I made,
Which leavie boughs, and snowy fleeces shade.
And that, me thought, I heard, foure times to say,
With trembling voyce, Eliza, come away.
I come, I come, thy once vow'd wife, though now
My shamefull deed doth make my speed more slow.
Forgive me pray, the authour of the same
Was one that might extenuate my blame.
His heavenly mother, and his pious load
Of father, gave me hopes of his aboad.
[Page 65]And though I err'd, yet my intents were good,
Nor would it irke me, had his fraile faith stood.
But as my life at first was ill begun;
So doth the tenor of the same hold on.
My husband fell, at holy Altar slaine,
And from that deed, accru'd my brothers gaine.
My spouse deare ashes, and my countrey I
Exi [...]'d left: forc'd by following foes to flye.
The seas & brother scap't, 'mongst strangers brought,
There I the land I gave to thee, first bought.
I built a Citie, rais'd wide walles without,
Envy'd by all the neighbouring townes about.
Straight warres arose, with which I was beset,
E're I rude gates, or armes could ready get.
A thousand Suitors did me like, and woe,
Complaining that I lov'd they knew not who▪
Why yeeld'st me not unto Hiarba's hands?
I'le give my Armes, up to thy curst commands.
Besides my brothers hands would be embrew'd
As well in mine, as in my husbands bloud.
Lay by thy Reliques, by thy touch prophan'd,
"Vile is the service of an impious hand.
Rather than thou their worshipper shoul'dst be,
'Twere better they from flames had ne're scap't free.
Perhaps thy Dido's left with childe, and part
Of thee rests in my wombe, as well as heart.
The babe shall joyne in its sad mothers fall,
So shalt thou cause th'unborne childs funerall.
Iülus brother, with me wretch, shall dye:
And one selfe paine, two bodies shall destroy.
But th'god bids goe: would he had bar'd thy way.
Nor Trojans e're had trod on Tyrian Bay.
Through him thou thus by adverse storms art crost,
And thy de [...]re time, on rapid streames is lost.
[Page 42]If Hector liv'd, and Troy now stood againe,
Thou'dst scarce goe seek it to endure such paine.
Not Simcis, but Ty [...]'s sought by thee,
Where when thou com'st, thou'lt but a stranger be.
And whilst that it obscure, and hidden lies,
Thou'lt scarce attaine it, save with aged eyes.
Oh rather take for Dowre, (doubts layd aside)
These people, and Pigmilions wealthy pride!
With prosp'rous lucke place Troy in Tyrian land:
And as a King, rule, governe, and command.
If thou wish warre, or that Iülus faine
Would vaunt it with a proud triumphant traine:
'Cause nought shall want, wee I finde a foe to wound
This place with peace, this doth with Arme [...] abound.
Now by thy Father, and thy Brothers how,
And by thy gods, fellowes in flight, and woe.
(So may Troyes remnant still victorious be;
And mayst a period to thy perils see.
So may Ascanius yeares with joy increase,
And old Anchis [...], bones still rest in peace.)
Spare thou the house, that offers to be thine!
What fault, save love, canst thou object as mine?
From Phthian, nor Mycenean land came I;
Nor did my spouse, or sire, thy peace deny.
If thou disdain'st me for thy wife, I'le bee
Thine hostesse: any thing, to live with thee.
I know the waves on Affrick shores that play,
Sometimes they give, sometimes deny men way.
When windes are calme, then hoyse thy sayles, you see
Thy ships now moored in the harbour bee.
Let me observe thy tide, and time, to goe:
Nor shalt thou stay then, though thy selfe wish so.
Thy wearied mates aske rest to free their care,
And thy torne Fleet craves yet some small repaire.
[Page 43]By my deserts, or thee what more I owe,
And by my hopes of marriage, doe not goe.
Stay whilst the seas are calme, or else my love,
That I may learne my heavier Fate to prove.
If not: by death I vow to right my wrong,
Nor shalt thou cruel be against me long.
Oh! that my writing posture thou couldst spy:
Vpon my lap the Da [...]dan sword doth lye.
Whilst on the blade, tears from my pale cheekes slide,
Which shall in stead of teares, with bloud be dy'd.
How well thy gifts doe with my fate agree!
At easie rate thou'st built a Tombe for me.
Nor doth my breast now first endure a wound:
For elder scarres of love, may there be found.
Deare sister A [...]e, that knew'st my am'rous play,
Shalt thy last duties to my ashes pay.
Nor will I then Sichaeus wife be sed,
But on my Marble shall this verse be read.
The cause and sword that Dido slue, alone
Aeneas gave; but th'hand she us'd, her owne.
THE ARGVMENT OF HERMIONE'S Epistle to Orestes.

HErmione the daughter of Menelaus and Helena, was by her Grandsire Tyndarus (in the absence of her father, then at the w [...]rres of Troy) betrothed to Ore­stes, the sonne of Agamemnon and Clytemnestra. But Achilles being slaine, and Pyrrhus succeeding, at their re­turne from Troy, her father (ignorant of the former con­tract) gave her in marriage unto Pyrrhus: who by force tooke her to his bed. Of whose unjust proceeding shee h [...]rd complaines to her Orestes, urging him in to attempt her rescue, with examples), and the possibility of her freedome: concluding with an irreconciliable hatred against her ty­rannizing Lord, and a constant resolution to l [...]ve the votary, or dye the sacrifice of her first chosen lover.

TO thee my Spouse, and Cousin, once I write,
Now Cousin onely, rob'd of husbands right.
Me Pyrrhus stout, true image of his sire,
Vuniustly keepes unto himselfe entire.
What might be done, I did, his force to quaile;
Nor more could an effeminate hand prevaile.
Pyrrhus, sayd I, what dost? more love afford,
I can revenge, and know I have a Lord:
But he more deafe than seas, no whit forbeares,
But dragges me home by my disordred haires.
[Page 69]What worse could I have done, had Sparta's soyle,
And Grecian mayds, been to the foes a spoyle?
Farre better us'd Achaia Hectors faire,
When Danaish fires did Phrygian wealth impaire.
But deare Orestes, if a care of mee
In thee remaine, thine owne from bondage free.
If any stole thy cattle, would'st thou goe
To rescue them, and for thy wife be slow?
Let Menelaus thy example bee:
Who mov'd just armes, his ravisht wife to free.
If he at home content had idly slept,
The Trojan swaine faire Hellen still had kept.
Thou need'st prepare no fleet, no armes, or store
Of men, come thou thy selfe, I wish no more.
Though so I might be rescu'd: tis no shame
To warre in the defence of wedlockes fame.
Atreus to both of us was grandsire, so
If not my husband, thou'rt my cousin though.
As spouse thy wife, cousin thy cousin minde;
These double names a double duty binde.
My Grandsire, (then my guardian) did assigne,
And with my liking mee for ever thine;
My father, after, me to Pyrrhus gave:
My grandsire though, as chief'st, most right should have.
When thee I married, none I wrong'd: if I
Should Pyrrhus marry, thee I harme thereby.
My father sure will pardon this our love,
Since he himselfe the wing'd gods shafts did prove.
The love he suffered, hee'l to us afford:
Th'examp [...]e of my mother doth accord.
What he to her was, thou'rt to me: of old
What the Dardanian guest, is Pyrrhus bold.
What though he vaunt the deeds his fire did doe?
Thou wel canst boast th'atchievements thine did too
[Page 46] Tantalides tho great Achilles lead,
A Souldier this, of Captaines that the head.
Pelops, and Pelops sire, were kin to thee:
Count, and thy selfe from love the fifth will bee.
Nor wantst thou heart, dire arms thou bor'st, 'tis true,
How couldst do lesse? 'twas she thy Father slue.
Would juster quarrels had thy courage prov'd,
And yet by thee they were not rais'd, nor mov'd.
Though thou didst cause Aegistus bloud to staine
The floore, as did before thy Father slaine.
Which deed (thy praise) Pyrrhus thy crime implyes,
Yet stil endures my person 'fore his eyes.
My face, and mind, swell with disdainfull ire;
And my breast burnes with a suppressed sire.
Before my face shalt thou upbraided bee?
Nor force, nor Armes have I to fight for thee.
But weepe I can, and so my griefes allay,
Whil'st ceares like rivers, on my breast make way.
The'e, these, alone I have, these forth I powre;
My cheekes are wet with a contin [...]all showre.
Nor could our Ancestors this fate escape:
Each Nymph of Tantal's line, is borne a rape.
No tales will I of Milkie Swan unfold,
Nor love descending in a showre of gold.
Or how where Isthwos doth two seas divide,
Hyppodamie on waxen wheeles did ride.
Faire Tyndaris by Theseus long detain'd,
By Amyclaean brethren was regain'd.
Next by Idean ghuest, from home convay'd,
Argolick hands she arm'd unto her ayd:
I scarce remember't, yet remember doe;
How each breast then was fild with feare and woe.
Both Grandsire, Sister, Brother, all shed teares,
And Leda her owne live in vokt with prayers.
[Page 47]Nay I, with haires as then not long, yet torne,
Exclaim'd deare mother, leav'st thou me forlorne?
Who now lest my descen [...] I should gain-say,
Behold to Pyrrhus am become a prey.
Had great Athilles scap't Apollos bow;
His sonnes rash deed he would have blam'd, I know.
It ne're pleas'd him, nor would if he had liv'd,
A mournfull wife should be of spouse depriv'd.
What fault of mine did angry heavens incense?
What starre withstands me with dire influence?
Young I my Mother lost, my Sire wag'd warre;
And though both liv'd, to me both strangers were.
No babbling speeches in my blooming yeares
Of mine (deare mother) did delight thine eares.
Nor threw I 'bout thy necke mine armes abroad,
Nor sate I in thy lap, a gratefull load,
No care of cloathing me, did vex thy head,
Nor didst thou lead me to my marriage bed.
Though thee at thy returne I met, I vow,
A mothers face in thee I did not know.
But by thy beauty thee for Hellen tooke:
Nay thou though seene, yet for thy child didst looke.
One comfort yet Orestes was, and hee
Except he fight, will be debar'd from mee.
Th'unmanly Pyrrhus me retaines a thrall,
This is the good I've gain'd by Iliums fall.
When Phoebus from on high his beames displayes,
A gentler ease my pensive griefe allayes.
But when the nights black mantle's spread, and I
Vpon my sad and loathed bed doely,
In stead of sleepe, teares from mine eyes doe spring,
And farre off from him, as a foe I fling.
Oft growne unmindfull through distractive cares
His Scyrian limbes I've touch't at unawares.
[Page 72]Which when perceiv'd, the hated corps I fly,
And deeme my hands to be defil'd thereby.
Orestes oft for Pyrrhus I miscall,
And love the errour of my tongue withall.
By our unhappy race, by Iove I pray,
Who seas, vast earth, and heavens with power doth sway.
By thy sires bones, my uncles, which by thee
Beneath their marble well revenged bee;
Either my breath, may I to death resigne,
Or once againe become for ever thine.
THE ARGVMENT OF DEIANIRA'S Epistle to Hercules.

HErcules the sonne of Tupiter and Alcmena, after the conquest of many tedious labours imposed on him by Euristheus, and the spitefull Juno: at length having slaine Eurytus, King of Oechalia, and den o [...]shed the Citie, hee tooke captive his daughter Iole, forme ly promised him in marriage, and againe dexied him by her father, with whom be retired into Eubaea: and there as fondly doted on her, as bee had for merly done on the Lydian Omphale. Meane time Deianeira, daughter of Oeneus king of Calydon, hearing of his unlook't for, and unmanly actions, wrote this her following Epistle unto him: wheriu she endevours by the mention of his f [...]mer glorious enterprise, to recall him from his lawlesse love. But whilst shee was yet writing, newes was brought unto her of the violent paines her Hercules sustained, caused by the shirt she sent him, dipt in the bloud of the Contaure Nestus, credulously by her supposed to have had the power to regaine her husbands languishing affection towards her. Much troubled at the sad event, she abou [...]s to purge herselfe of guilt: and to instance a reall example of her love to him, vowes to lay violent hands upon herselfe, and so summes up her Epistle with a tragicall conclusion.

OEchalia wonne I joy, yet grieve withall,
That victor thou, should'st to the vanquisht fall.
Swift fame to Grecian townes report hath brought
Of deeds that scarce can worthy thine be thought.
[Page 50]How he, whom Iuno, nor her endlesse toyle,
Could quaile, hath tane by Iöle the foyle.
This would Euristheus, this the Thunderers wife,
Who glories in this blemish of thy life.
Sure thou'rt not he, to th'framing of whose might,
Could not suffice the pleasures of a night.
Thee Venus more than Iuno harmes; her spleene
Hath rais'd thy fame, by this t'hath ruin'd been.
Behold the world by thee with soft peace crown'd,
As farre as ambient seas wide earth surround.
To thee both earth, and seas, their quiet owe,
Both Phoebu [...] houses doe thy merits know,
Heaven thou upheld'st; shall once hold thee; lent'st ayd
To weary Atlas, with his load o're layd.
But what mong'st these, save shame dost thou obtain,
If thus with lust thy former deeds thou staine?
Wast thee when young (of love then worthy known)
Whom men report t'have slaine two snakes alone.
Farre better didst begin than end; ah me!
How much that child, this man doe disagree!
Whom savage beasts, whom Sthenele [...]an foe,
Nor Iuno could o'recome, doth love o'rethrow.
Yet am I thought well match't, 'cause Iove to mee's
Father in law, and husband Hercules.
As different Steeres to draw do ill accord,
So a mean wife joyn'd to a greater Lord.
No honour, but a burthen 'tis to me,
If well thou'lt match, match in thine owne degree.
To me my spouse a stranger is, wilde beasts
And monsters, he with daily force infests.
Whilst I am busied with chaste prayers at home,
Lest by his direfull foes he be o'recome.
'Mongst Serpents, Boares, and Lyons angry pawes
I'me tost, on him me thinks dogges feast their jawes.
[Page 51]Beasts intrailes idle dreames of carefull night,
And ominous fancies doe my mind affright.
Each flickering breath of fame I catch at: feare,
And hope, like rule, like sway in me doe beare.
Thy mother's absent, and lamenteth now
She pleas'd a God: thy Sire, and Hyllus too.
Eur [...]stheus, that fell Iuno's wrath doth move,
Enough I feele; too long her ire doth prove.
But this is small, strange love thou add'st to these,
By thee each one may mother be that please.
Not Auge in Parthenian vale defil'd,
Nor the base births of Astydamia milde
Will I relate: nor the Teuthrantian Quire,
Of which from thee none did a mayd retire.
That recent crime doth me the most upbraid,
By which to Lynus I am step-dame made.
Meander, that in one redoubled course
So often flowes, and rowles his wheeling sourse,
Hath seene about thy neck a golden chaine,
That once did heavens faire starry vault sustaine.
Ah! didst not shame, about thine armes t'enfold
Rich bracelets, set with glittring gemmes & gold?
Those armes, by which the Nemaean Lion dy'd,
Whose bristled skin in triumph grac'd thy side.
Dar'st thou (more worthy farre of Poplar twine)
With a quaint tire crowne those harsh hairs of thine?
Didst thou not blush, when in effeminate guise,
Meonian zone did thy vast wast comprize?
Thou thoughtst not sure of Diomedes then,
Who fed his pampred Steeds with flesh of men.
So drest, had thee the fell Busiris seene,
He would have scorn'd by thee t'have conquerd been.
Let bold Antaeus loose those am'rous bands.
Lest he too grieve, t'have fal'n by womanish hands.
[Page 52]'Tis sayd, thou 'mongst Ionian maids didst set,
And balely spin, fearing thy mistresse threat.
Nor dost refraine t'apply thy conquering hand
To Osier maunds, and like a Spinstresse stand.
Grosse threads thou draw'st with thy unweldy thumb,
And yield'st thy faire fac'd dame thy daily summe.
How oft hast thou through boistrous fingers stroke
Thy course-spun-threads, nay ev'n thy spindle broke?
And then for feare of rod, and mistresse too,
Layd prostrate at her feet, for mercie sue.
Besides, which most of all thy glory soyles,
Thou brag'st and boast'st of thy, triumphant spoyles.
How in thy render yeares with generous spright,
Thou overcam'st two horrid snakes in fight.
And the Tegaean Bore, that wrought such ills,
On Cypresse-bearing Erimonthus hills.
Nor spar' [...]st t [...]ou Diomedes doore. nayld head,
Nor Steeds with humane flesh (dire dainties) fed.
The triform'd Geryon. Natures prodigie,
Large heards possessing, doth thy tale supply.
Nor silent lies the triple-headed hound,
Whose ugly jawes black hissing snakes surround.
The fertile serpent, she whose num'rous store
Encreast, and still grew rich by being poore.
Antaeus, with torne jawes, the pond'rous weight
Of thy broad side, thou doest at large relate.
And troopes ill trusting to their double force,
Which thou o're steep [...]hessalian hills didst course.
[...]nd couldst thou clad in soft Sydonian vaile,
Tell these, and shame not cause thy tongue to faile:
Whilst with thine armes the Jardan nymph adornes
Her selfe, an [...] makes them trophies of thy scornes.
Goe now and blaze thy facts, thy glory scan,
'Tis she that's now become the abler man.
[Page 53]To whom so sarre inferiour thou art growne,
As thou'rt more great than those thou hast o'rethrown
To her thy fame, worth, actions, for feit are.
Give way: for shee's thy prayses lawfull heire.
Oh shame! thy harsh, and shaggy Lions hide,
Now vailes a womans smooth, and nicer side.
Thou art deceiv'd: those spoyles no Lions bee,
But thine, the beast thou over cam'st; she thee.
Nay she that scarce could distaffe rule before,
Now beares thy shafts dipt in Lernaean gore.
Teaching her hands to wield thy club (grown bold)
And in her glasse doth thy fam'd Armes behold.
All this I heard, yet scarce did credit fame,
Till through mine ears slie griefe my heart o'recame.
But now mine eyes the harlot have espy'd,
And such my griefe is, I no more can hide.
Nor her conceal'st thou from me, but i [...] spight
Bring'st through the Citie, to upbraid my sight.
Not with loose haires, beneath a captives fate,
By her vaild face, confessing her estate.
But most conspicuous in embroidered gold:
In such as Phrygia once did thee behold.
And lookes so stately on the following traine,
As though the raz'd Oechdlia stood againe.
Perhaps poore me divorc't, thou meanst that she,
A harlots name layd by, thy wife shall bee.
And guilty Hymen shall the hands combine
Of Eurytaean Iöle with thine.
My mind's astonisht at the ominous ill,
My hands faint, cold doth all my members fill.
Yet once, and with chast fires, thou me didst love,
And in my cause didst twice thy courage prove.
Achelous sad his fronts rent ruines bore,
And shrunk his maim'd brow 'twixt the reedy shore.
[Page 54]The Contaure Nessus by thy shafts was slaine,
And with his crimson gore the streams did staine.
But wretchl what write I [...] Fame report hath spred,
The shirt I sent thee, hath thy torment bred.
Ah me! what hath my rash love forc'd me try,
Why impious Deianeira doubt'st to dye?
Shall flames thy husbands flesh on Oeta rive;
And thou the cause of such an ill survive?
What shall I doe that to the world may prove
I was thy wife, my death shall shew my love.
And thou, deare brother, shalt in me descry
A sister, Deianeira, straightway dye.
Oh cursed house! the kingdome Agrius holds,
Deserted Oeneus feeble age enfolds.
One brother banisht, strayes in forraigne land.
Th'other dy'd, living in his fatall brand.
My mother fell by direfull steele: then why
O impious Deianeira doubt'st to dye?
Yet by our nuptiall rites I thee require,
Not to surmise I did thy death conspire.
For when thy shafts had pierc't the Centaures breast,
This bloud, sayth he, is with loves power possest.
A shirt I sent, dipt in the poysonous dye,
Why impious Deianeira doubt'st to dye?
And now my Father, Gorge, and native soyle,
Deare brother, banisht into sad exile:
And thou, the latter light, mine eyes shall view,
My spouse (oh that thou wert) and child adiew.
THE ARGVMENT OF ARIADNE'S Epistle to THESEƲS.

MInos, King of Creet, having by sharpe warre reven­ged the death of his sonne Androgeus, murthered by the Athenians, enforc't them yet (as tribute) to send him every ninth yeare, seven youths, and as many virgines; which be cast into the Labyrinth, to be devoured of the Minotaur. The lot at length fell on Theseus; who being thrown into the den, neverthelesse by the ayd of Ariadne, slew the Monster, and by a clew of thread which she gave him, returned safe from out the prison. With whom, and her sister Phaedra, hee makes escape, and arrives at Naxus. Where Bacchus warnes him to leave his beauteous rape Ariadne. Night came, & she fast bound in sleeps soft fet [...]ers, with Phaedra he sayls away, and forsakes the innocent vi [...]g [...]n: who when awa­ked, and seeing herselfe so foully betrayed; distracted, with pi [...]tifull exclamations, shee ranges the shore to and fro: At length, more calme, she writes, and fills her teare-dropt paper with many sad complaints, and earnestly requests him againe to come unto her.

MOre kinde than thee, all kinde of beasts I see,
To none wors trusted, could I have bin thā thee
The lines thou read'st, I send thee from that shore,
Whence without me, fild sayles thy vessell bore.
[Page 56]Where sleepe, and thou with it combin'd, betrayd
(Hard hearted man, vile deed) an harmlesse mayd.
'Twas 'bout the time when silver dew first falls,
And warbling birds pearch in their leavie stalls.
Not full awake, nor sleeping, toward [...] thy place
My armes I stretcht, my Theseus to embrace.
But there was none: againe mine armes are throwne
About the stil warme couch, but there was none.
Feare sleepe exil'd: affright I rose, and sled
With speed, my now unhappy widowed bed:
Forthwith my bosome doth with strokes resound,
Tearing my locks, through sleep, unloos'd, unbound.
'Twas moon-light, and I look't if I could spy
Ought save the shore, but nought else sees mine eye.
Now here, now there, I randisordred wayes,
Whilst the deepe sands my virgin feet o're-layes.
Then crying out on Theseus, all around
The hollow murm'ring rockes thy name resound.
Still as I call'd, the place the same still sayd,
As 'twould have lent my woes a mutuall ayd.
A mount there was, on which few shrubs did grow,
Now a steepe rock, fret with the waves below.
Vp which I crawld: my mind lent force: and thence,
With wandring sight survay the seas immense.
And there (forev'n the winds were harsh to mee)
Thy strouting sayles filld with fresh gales, I see.
Either I saw't, or if I thought but so,
I'me sure halfe dead, more cold I was than snow.
But griefe would not permit me languish [...] long:
On Theseus I exclaime with high-rais'd tongue,
Whither, ah! whither flyest? vile wretch, retreat;
Turne back thy ship, it hath not yet its freight.
Where words were wanting, there a blow supplies,
Each word with strokes weas mixt, each stroke with cryes.
[Page 57]And though thou heard'st not yet thou needes must see
My out-stretcht arms gave ample signes to thee.
Vpon a wand a milke white vaile I hung,
T'admonish thee of thy neglect, my wrong.
And now th'wert out of sight: and I to teares
Now thawd: which griefe had froz'n before, & fears.
What better office could mine eyes have done,
Than weep my woes, when thou their aim wert gone?
Or with loose haires I run, like those that bee
Possest by the Ogygian Deitie.
Or viewing seas set on a rock alone;
More stone-like seeme, than that I set upon.
Oft to the bed I run, that did containe
Vs both, though not restore us both againe.
And (as I may) thy steps with mine I trace,
And hug in steed of thee, thy luke-warme place.
I lay me downe, the bed with teares bedew,
And cry, two prest thee, oh! restore thou two!
Both hither came, why went not both away?
False bed! where, where's my souls best part? oh say.
What shall I doe? the land untild doth lye,
No deeds of man, of beasts no deed I spy.
On all sides seas the earth surround: no where
A Forth-bound ship, or Pilot doth appeare.
Suppose I had both ships, and mates at will,
My countrey shuts me out, I'me helplesse still.
Though I should safely sayle on smooth-calm'd sea,
And winds my friends, I should an exile be.
No more deare Creet, which hundred Cities crowne,
Shall I behold: to Iove an infant knowne.
For both my father, and my native soyle,
(Deare names) betrayd I by my treacherous wile.
When, lest the Labyrinth shou [...]d prove thy tombe,
I gave thee threads to guide thee through each room.
[Page 58]When, by the dangers that thou didst decline,
Thou swor'st, whilst living, I should still be thine.
Behold, I live, yet am not thine: if she
Can live, that's slaine by false mans perjurie
Wretch! would by that dire Mace I'had dy'd, which slue
My brother, then thy vow had stil been true.
What I must suffer, not so much I mind,
As what poore soules forsooke, like me, may finde.
A thousand formes of death my fancie presse,
And death it selfe then th'feare thereof's fa [...]re lesse.
Now here, now there, me thinkes I coming see
Fierce wolves, to glut their appetite on me.
Perhaps this Isle bright-crested Lions breeds,
Who knowes if it the swifter Tyger feeds.
And seas may send forth monsters too beside,
Who shall forbid the sword to pierce my side.
Or that I be not thral'd in captive band,
Or spin forth harsher threads with servile hand:
Whose Sire is Minos, mother Phoebus seed,
And what is more, who once was thine decreed.
If sens, or far-stretcht shores mine eye survayes,
Much me the seas, much me the land dismayes.
If heaven, the gods, celestiall signes, I feare;
Thus left a prey for ravenous beasts to teare.
If men inhabit it, in them there's danger:
My wrongs have taught me not to trust a stranger;
Would that Androgeu [...] liv'd, or that thy fate
Cecropian soyle, th'hadst bought at cheaper rate.
Nor hadst thou, perjur'd Theseus, done to death
That Monster, man above, and beast beneath.
Would thee I ne're had giv'n that cunning twine,
By which those abstruse vaults thou didst decline,
Nor marvell I that thee strange conquest crown'd,
And than the Cretan monster strewd the ground.
[Page 59]His hornes could not have harm'd thee: safe enuffe,
Th'hadst bin unarm'd: for ev'n thy breast was proof.
There flints, there adamants thou bor'st, nay there
What them doth passe, thou didst a Theseus beare.
Dire sleepe, why did you vainly me surprise?
Nor in eternall night compresse mine eyes.
Yee cruell windes, that too-too ready were,
Th'officious blasts to blow me into teares.
Cruell the hand me and my brother slew,
And plighted faith (that empty name) untrue.
Sleepe, winds, and faith, their plots against me layd;
And by three meanes, one Virgin was betray'd.
Shall I, not dying then, with latest light
Behold my mothers teares? none close my fight?
And must my spirit flit through unknowne aire:
Nor friendly hands annoynt my limbs with care?
But on my untomb'd bones must sea-fowle feed?
Are these the fun'rall rites my merits plead
When thou to Athens art return'd, and when
Rais'd high with honour 'mongst thy countrey-men;
Thou shalt relate the double monster slaine,
And stony vaults cut out in doubtfull traine.
Pray tell my story too: I must not bee
Left out o'th'catalogue of deeds done by thee.
Nor Aethra, nor Aegeus, parents were
To thee: thee flintie rocks, thee stones did beare.
Oh! that thine eyes me from the ship had seene!
That sight to move thee had sufficient been.
Nay now, though not with eyes, with mind conceave
And see, how to a wave-beat rock I cleave.
Behold in mournfull sort, my scattred haires,
And garments heavie (as with raine) with teares.
Like corn with north windes shook, I quaking stand,
The lines I write, mar'd by my trembling hand.
[Page 60]By no deserts (since ill they sped) I sue
To thee: no thankes unto my deeds be due,
Yet I no paine was, though no cause to thee
Of safety: then be not deaths cause to me
These hands, now faint with beating to disease
My breast, to thee I stretch ore ampleseas,
These haires that yet are left, to thee I spread,
By these teares pray, teares for thy actions shed:
Turne back thy ship, turne with the changing winde,
Though I am dead, collect my bones you finde.
THE ARGVMENT of CANACE'S Epistle to MACAREVS.

MAcareus and Canace, sonne and daughter to Aeo­lus, beyond the bounds of naturall affection, incestu­ously loved each other. In fine, Canace is brought [...]o bed. The nurse secretly conveyes the child; which now at the doore exclaims: is heard by Aeolus, who detecting the crime, mov'd wi [...]h rage and sha [...]e against so hideous a fact, commands it to be expos'd unto the fury of wilde beasts. To Canace he sends asword, and would that she should expiate her crime by death: which sh [...] accordingly intends. Yet be­fore the a [...] as prologue to her Tragedy, she writes unto her­brother (who before had taken Sanctuarie at Delphos) this her fate condoling Epistle.

IF any blots in these my lines appeare,
They by their mistresse murther caused were.
This hand a pen, that doth a sword comprise,
And in my lap the limber paper lies.
This is my posture whilst to thee I write:
This my obdurate parent I delight.
Whom I now wish were present; that so hee
Might my ends authour, and spectator bee.
And farre more fierce than his own winds (dire shew)
With tearlesse cheekes, my gaping wounds review.
'Tis much'mongst boistrous windes still verst to bee;
Iust with his peoples nature doth he gree.
[Page 62]The South, the West, and Northern winds he school [...];
And Eurus with his stubborne wings he rules.
He o're his windes, but not his wrath beares sway:
And his lesse Realme, t'his greater vice gives way.
What boots it me, by Grandsires rais'd to skies,
To reckon pow'rfull Iove 'mongst my allies?
If this, in trembling hand, sad gift, I beare,
This ominous steele, (di [...]e motive of my feare)
Oh Macareu! the day that us conjoyn'd
In one, would it fate for my last had sign'd.
To me, why more than brother didst thou prove?
To thee, why more than sister showd I love?
I burnt with hidden fires: nor yet did know
What God within me did indame me so.
Pale grew my cheekes, leannesse my limbes consum'd,
And my forc't stomacke little meat assum'd.
My sleepes were broken, each night seem'd a yeare,
Of sigh't I, when no cause there did appeare,
Nor why I did it, could a reason move.
Knew not what lovers were, and yet did love.
My nurse, with aged minde, the ill first spy'd;
And Canace, thou art in love, she cry'd.
I blush [...]: and in my bosome cast mine eyes,
Sufficient signes did from my silence rise.
And now my wombes foule load began t'increase,
And th'growing burthen did my limbs disease.
What hearbs, what medicines did my Nurse not try!
And with her bold, and ready hand apply;
(Which me alone did from thy knowledge hide)
To force the clinging infant from my side!
But that alas! too quick withstood her Art,
And all the helpe her Physicke could impart.
Nine Moones were past he tenth with silver bright
Steeds drawne, unto the world now shewd her light.
[Page 63]When sudden gripes cause my unwonted paine:
Vnapt the throes of child-birth to sustaine;
I straight cry'd out, and wilt thou then unfold
Thy crimes (sayth she) and did my mouth with-hold.
What should I doe? paine urg'd me to exclaime:
But feare, my nurse, and shame, forbad the same.
My groanes I then'supprest, and words forbeare:
Fore't as I lay to drinke each falling teare.
Death was at hand, Lucina chast deny'd
All helpe; and then thad been a sin t'have dy'd:
When thou (layd by me with torne haire) didst joyne,
And cherish my cold dying breast with thine.
And saydst, deare sister live, oh! live my joy!
Nor in one body doe thou two destroy.
Let hope revive thee, thou shalt once bee sayd
His wife, by whom thou art a mother made.
Trust me, halfe dead, I at thy words reviv'd:
And was at once of crime and load depriv'd.
Why at my birth doth joy thy hea [...]t surprize?
When 'tmust be hid ('las) from my fathers eyes.
The busie Nurse, with Olive branches round,
And gentle fillet [...] the poore infant bound.
A sacrifice she faign'd, and lowd did pray:
My father and the people gave her way.
When neare the doore the childe cryes out, & beares
Its owne sad message to my fathers eares.
The babe he caught: and faigned rites espies:
The Palace rung with his incensed cries.
As gentle gales cause trembling seas to quake,
As sof [...] southwindes light Aspen leaves doe shake:
So might'st th'have seen my quiv'ting limbs with feare:
To move the bed, that did my burthen beare:
When in he rusht; prool liming my disgrace:
And scarce with-held his hands from off my face.
[Page 64]I blushing, answerd in dumbe teares alone:
Throgh gelid feare my tongue was speechlesse grown
The child he then comman [...]s be made a pray
To beasts, or layd in some untroden way.
Which straight cry'd out: as if (poore soule) it knew
Its Grandsires wrath, and did for mercie sue.
What heart I then had, I to censure leave,
Which, brother, you may by your owne conceave.
When fore mine eyes my ravisht child was borne,
To be by mountaine wolves in peeces torne.
My father gone, I (fil'd with blacke despaire)
Beat my bar'd breast, and bloodlesse cheeks did teare.
When soon a sad fac't guard appeares, and beares
This harsh unwelcome message to mine eares.
Eole to thee this sword (then gave it) sends:
And bids by merit know to what it tends.
We know, sayd I: well shall this sword be try'd:
My fathers gifts I'le in my bosome hide.
And meanst thou thus to grace my nuptiall houre?
And raise thy daughters wealth by such a Dowre?
Mock't Hymen, hence thy bridall Tapers take,
And nimbly these detested roofes forsake.
You Furies with your brands to me retire,
That from you flame [...] may spring my funerall fire.
And may ye (Sisters) mindfull of my state,
All better marry, mov'd by better fate.
What hath my poore child done? by what offence,
Could that scarce borne its grandsires wrath incense?
Alas! he could not merit death: no, he
(Innocuous) for my crimes, must punisht be.
Oh! sonne, thy mothers griefe and wilde beasts pray!
Vntimely rap't hence, on thy births (curst) day!
Thou wretched pledge of my unluckie love!
One day thy first, one day thy last did prove.
[Page 65]I was not suffered to embalme with teares
Thy corpes, or on thy tombe to strew my haires.
Not one cold kisse I from thy lips receav'd;
But am of thee by savadge beasts bereav'd.
Deare soule! I soon my selfe will follow thee,
Nor mother long, nor childlesse will I be.
And thou, oh brother! hop'd for but in vaine,
Collect thy childs small relliques that remaine,
And with its mother place them in one tombe;
Let one cold urn (though straight) lend both a room.
Forget me not, but let me have thy teare;
Nor lover thou, thy lovers body feare.
Thy dying sister, last request, I pray
Performe: whilst I my Fathers will obey.
THE ARGVMENT of MEDEA'S Epistle to IASON.

IAson being arriv'd at Colchos then in his flourishing & vigorous youth, and adorn'd with all the exquisite accom­plishments of form & behaviour; was by Medea, daughter of Aeta, king of Colchos no sooner seen, then fancyed, & by her (upon promise of Marriage) aided in the effecting his de­signes with whom, (together with the golden fleece,) hee makes a difficult escape and lands in Thessaly. There she re­duces feeble Aeson to fresh and lusty youth. There she per­swades Pelias his daughters to let out their Fathers blood; whose vaines she promis'd againe to fill with [...]outhfull heat, but deceitfully left them guilty of Parricide In the end (for these, and other more hainous crimes by her committed) Ja­son cast her off; and takes to wife Creusa, daughter of Cre­on king of Corinth, upon which the furioufly enraged Me­dea, wrote this her complaining, suing and menacing Epistle unto him.

WHat time I Queen of Colchos did impart
To thee my help, when thou implor'dst my Art;
The Sisters, that doe Mortals fates dispense,
Should have unwound my thread of life, and sense.
Well might Medea then have dy'd: what breath
Since that I've drawne, hath been a pain, a death.
[Page 67]Ah mel why ere by youthfull armes from Greece,
Came Pelian keele to fetch the Phrygian Fleece?
Why e're at Colches, was thy Argos view'd?
Why e're drunke Grecian troopes of Phasian flood?
Why more than ought, pleas'd me thy golden haire?
Thy tongues false grace, and sweetnesse, feature rare?
No doubt (since strange the ship that toucht our shore
And in her men bold, and resolved bore)
Th'ungratefull Iason had unphysickt, run
On Bulls flam'd breath, or on their hornes had gone.
Or sowne his seeds, and foes as many seene:
And Tiller so, of tillage slaine had beene.
How much deceit (vile wretch) with thee had dy'd!
And how much ill had been to me deny'd!
'Tis some delight t'upbraid ungratefull men:
That meanes I'le use, and so revenge agen.
When hither first thou stee [...]'dst with doubtful helm,
And first set'st foot within my fathers realme:
There I was then, what here's this Bride of thine 3
How rich was hers, so rich a Sire was mine.
This, Ephyre, did with double seas command;
That, snowie Scythia, and the Ponticke strand.
The youthfull Greekes A [...]e [...] entertaines,
Embroydred couches hold the following traines.
There first I saw, first knew thee who thou wert;
That time did prove first ruine of my heart.
I saw and perisht, burnt as 'fore some shrine,
Or sacred Altar doth a torch of Pine.
Faire was thy hew, and me my fate drew on:
Mine eyes quite dazeled, by thine eyes bright Sunne.
Which soone thou spy'dst: for who can love conceale?
That doth it selfe by its owne flames reveale.
Mean time the king (hard task) commands that thou
The Bulls stiff necks shouldst yoke to th'unfelt plow.
[Page 68] Mars's Bulls they were, dreadfull at more than horn:
Their very breath, a fire, within them borne.
Brasse-hoov'd: their nostrils arm'd too with the same:
Like Tunnels, black with the evapored flame.
Besides the seed which men for corn would yield,
Thou wert enjoyn'd to sow in furrowed field.
Who with born blades wold straight have sought thy foyle,
A thanklesse crop to recompense thy toyle.
Thy last attempt, was by some charme to keep
The wakefull dragon in a powerfull sleepe.
Thus spake Aeetes: when with heavie looke
Each [...]ose; and th'boord the purple beds forsooke.
How farre then pray was thy Creusa's dowre?
And Creons daughter, Creon great in power.
Sad thou wentst thence: whom I with eyes pursue.
Bedew'd with teares, and softly bad adiew.
Deepe wounded to my carefull couch I went,
And what of night remain'd, in teares I spent.
The dreadfull Bulls, the balefull seed, the slie,
And sleeplesse Dragon, still before mine eye.
Here love there feare, and feare encreast my flame:
With th'rising Sun to me my fister came.
Where, with torne haires, and on my face she found
Me sadly lying, with my teares all drown'd.
She help for th'Miniae ask't; what she did crave,
The same, to the Aesonian youth we gave.
A grove there is, with spreading okes thick sprayes
All gloomy darke: nor pierc't by Phoebus rayes.
Wherein stands Dia [...]'s Phane, at least did stand,
Her golden image wrought by barbarous hand.
Perhaps with me that's too forgot: but there
We came: when thus thou 'ganst to speake me faire,
"Fortune to thee hath given the power, and will
[Page 69]"Of all my hopes: thou canst both save and kill.
"Suffice that power: (if such a power can please.)
"Yet I preserv'd, thy fame shall more increase.
"By these my ills, which thou mayst helpe, I pray;
"By thy descent, and Grandsire, king of day.
"By triple Dians sacred mysterie,
"And by what gods soe're here worshipt bee.
"Faire virgine pittie me, oh pittie mine!
"By thy deserts chaine me for ever thine.
"And so a Grecian you not scorne in minde,
"(But whence should I expect the gods so kinde?
"Sooner my soule shall flit to empty aire,
"Than I enjoy a spouse but thee (brest faire)
"Be witnesse shee who swayes the Geniall band,
"And th'goddesse in whose Temple now we stand.
These, or the least of these, a simple mayd
Might soone have mov'd, hands joyn'd with hands to ayd.
Besides thy teares I saw, doth guile there dwell?
Thus was I wonne, thus by thy falshood fe [...]l.
Safe thou the brasse-hoov'd Bulls didst yoke, and teare
The solid earth with thy directed share.
Sowd'st it with Serpents teeth, in stead of corne:
Whence straight a ready armed soe was born.
As I, who gave the medicine, yet for feare
Grew pale, to see a troope such weapons beare.
Vntill that earth-borne race, in their owne bloud,
(A horrid deed) their hostile hands embrew'd.
The Dragon then came on, with hissing sound;
And crackling scales, his wreath'd breast swept the ground.
Where was thy dowrythen, thy royal bride.
And Istbmos that doth double seas divide?
'Twas I alone, ev'n I, who now am thought
So barb'rous, hurtfull, poore, a thing of nought:
[Page 70]That with charm'd sleepes, clos'd up his burning eyes,
And sately purchas'd thee thy golden prize.
My Sire, and countrey I betrayd, forsooke,
And what mighthap in exile under tooke.
My virgin-treasure made a thiefes base prey:
From mother, and lov'd sister fled away.
But thee, deere brother, fled I not: oh! here
My hand, and letter faint, and faile, for feare.
What it dar'd doe, it now dares scarce to write:
So, so, with thee, should I have dy'd by right.
Norfear'd I: (for me then what feare could seaze?)
Stain'd with fresh guilt, t'embarke on dang'rous seas.
Where be the gods? why suffer'd we not there?
Thou for deceit, for my credulous eare.
Oh! would those justling Isles had met: betweene
Which, our pasht bones, with thine might mixt have been.
Or Scylla sent us to her barking den;
Scylla, that ought to plague ungratefull men.
O [...] had that whirlepoole, raging gulfe, our graves
Afforded us, in her Trinacrian waves.
But safe, and victor to Aemonia thou
Art come; and to thy gods paid Fleece, and vow.
What need I Pelias daughters here relate,
Harmfull in pitty, and their fathers fate?
Though others blame, thou needs must praise me still,
For whom so often I was urg'd to ill.
And dar'dst thou yet (oh had I words in woe)
Dar'dst thou from Aesons house, to bid me goe?
Yet. charg'd, I went: my children both with me,
And what forsakes me never, love of thee.
But to mine eares when chanted Hymen came,
And kindled tapers, shone with dazling flame:
When lowd-breath'd Shalmes, your Hymencals sang,
[Page 71]To me more harsh than warlike Trumpets clang,)
Much, much I fear'd, though not so great an ill.
My breast with heart-benumming cold grew chill.
The people ran, and Hymen, Hy [...]en cry:
The more my woe, how much the noyse more nie.
My servants wept, yet strove to hide their teares:
For willing who would tell such ills, such feares?
Nor would my selfe have knowne it: but (too true)
(As knowne) my mind within me heavie grew.
When of my boyes the youngest, who before
Earnest to see, stood at the outn ost dore:
Hence mother, hence, my father comes, he cry'd,
And cloth'd in gold, drawn by chaind steeds doth ride
I straight with vesture rent, invade my breast;
Nor was my face free from my hands arrest.
Once thought I to have snatcht amid the presse,
The rosie chaplets from thy braided Tresse.
Scarce I forbore (drest as I was) to cry
Hee's mine, and scarce from laying hands on thee.
Wrong'd Sire rejoyce, yee Colchians too, and boast
These said infernals of my brothers ghost.
For sooke (my Countrey, Kingdome lost before)
Ev'n by my Spouse, to me all these, and more.
Serpents I overcame, and Bulls so fell,
Yet one poore man alas! I cannot quell.
And I, who raging fires by Art put by,
Mine owne close flames, I can by no meanes flye.
Me now my charmes, my spells, my simples faile,
The goddesse now, nor Hecate ought availe.
The day's unpleasant, and the nights of rest
Devoyd: no gentle slumbers stroake my breast.
I who mine owne cannot, the Serpents eyes
Yet clos'd: mine Art others, not me supplies.
[Page 72]The limbs I sav'd, an harlot now retaines,
And reapes the fruit of my solicitous paines,
Whilst thou, perhaps, unto thy nice-fond faire
Boasting, to please her more inquisitive eare,
Vent [...]st gainst my face and manners crimes at will.
She laughs, and jeeres at my defective ill.
We I, let her laugh; high thron'd in Tyrion dye.
She once shall weepe, and flames as scorching try.
Whilst fire, whilst sword, whilst deadly poysons bee,
No foe Medea hath, shall e're scape free.
Yet to thy heart, if pray'rs can passage finde,
Lend ears to words, farre, farre, beneath my minde.
I am thy suppliant now, who oftwer't mine:
And prostra [...]e 'fore thy feet my limbes decline.
Though I seem vile, yet for my births sake heare,
Full hard their stepdame will they finde, I feare.
Ah! too-too much they thee resemble, who
Oft as I view, teares doe mine eyes bedew.
Now by the gods, and by my grandsires fire,
My merits, Babes, deare pledges, I require.
Restore thy bed, for which I all did flee:
And to thy words adde faith, and helpe to mee.
Against nor men, nor Bulls, I crave thy ayd,
Nor that the Dragon should asleepe be layd:
For thee alone, whom I deserv'd, I sue.
By whom a parent, I was parent too.
Demand'st a Dowre? I in that dreadfull field,
Thou plow'dst for golden fleece, a dowre did yield.
That Fleece my dowrie was; the which, if I
Should aske againe, thou woul [...]st againe deny.
Thou safe, art it: and Grecian youth beside:
Goe now, and weigh with these, Sisyphian pride.
That thou dost live, e [...]oy'st that spouse of thine;
[Page 73]And that thou now canst be ingrate, is mine.
Whom e're't be long, I will—But to foretell
The paines what boots? wrath with high threats doth swel.
Where rage shall lead, I'le follow, & 't may be
Thou mayst lament, as I, t'have trusted thee.
The God that rules my breast, behold these ends:
I know not what great act my mind intends.
THE ARGVMENT OF LAODAMIA'S Epistle to PROTESILAƲS.

PRotefilaus with the rest of the Greekes, sayling for Troy, through tempest was driven into, and a long while detained in Port Aulis. Which Laodamia understanding, wrote unto him this Epistle: wherein shee bewayles his absence, relates unto him her nightly troubled dreames, puts him in mind of the Oracle, which had pronounc'd that he who first landed on the Trojan strand, should perish by th [...] sword: and implores his care both of himselfe and her. Thi [...] was the subject of her lines: Thus she begun.

TO thee thy Laodamia health doth send:
And wisheth where'tis sent, 'tmay thither tend
'Tis fam'd in Aulis, that you wind-bound lye:
Ah! where were winds when thou from me didst flye
Then stubborne waves should have thine oares withstoo [...]
[...] aging seas had at that time been good.
More Risses, charges more, to thee my deare
I then had giv'n, and more had told thine eare.
But headlong wert thou hurryed hence; prest gales
By saylors wisht, not me, straight sweld thy sayles.
A winde for seamen fit, not those that lov'd:
Too soone was I from thy lov'd armes remov'd.
[Page 75]Lame were my words from faultring tongue that fel;
Scarce brought I forth that sadder word, Farewell.
The winds blew stiffe, and ample sayls did stretch:
And now th'wert past mine eyes discerning reach.
Yet whilst I might (deare sight) I strongly viewd;
And thy departing eyes with mine pursu'd.
But when nor fleeting sayles I saw, nor thee;
Nor ought but th'uncouth sea was left to see,
With thee my light too fled: and all around
Beset with sudden darknesse, fell to ground.
Whom scarce thy father, nor Acaslus old,
Or mother could revive with water cold.
A pious deed, yet fruitlesse did they try:
Why did they not permit me then to die?
Together with my life my griefes I found:
And lawfull love my loyall breast did wound.
No care have I to brayd my curious Tresse,
Or cloath my limbs in an embroydred dresse,
Like those the horn'd god strikes with viny speare,
Where fury leads, I run; now here, now there.
Phylacean matrons to me come, and cry
Put on thy royall robes Laodamie.
Shall I weare garments of a Tyrian staine?
And thou fierce warres at Iliums walls sustaine?
I braid my lockes, and thou an helmet weare?
I gentle robes, thou stubborne armour beare?
No (as I may) attir'd like thee I'le goe:
And parallell thy warfare in my woe.
Thou fatally-faire Paris, mayst thou prove
As bad a foe in fight, as guest in love.
Would Helens face thou hadst not lik't, or she,
(Though seene) might never so have fancy'd thee.
And thou that toyl'st thy ravisht wife to fre [...]
To some how sad a Victor wilt thou be!
[Page 76]The gods from us the ominous chance remove:
May my sase spouse yield up his armes to Iove.
But yet at thought of that dire warre, in streames,
Teares flow, like snow, thaw'd by the mid-day beams.
Troy, Xant, Ide, Simois, Tenedos, when heard,
Are names that in their sounds are to be fear'd.
Nor would h'have dar'd a rape, but that he knew
To keepe it wonne: and what his strength could do.
'Tis fam'd he came in glittring gold cloth'd o're;
As one that on his backe Troyes riches bore.
Well stor'd with ships, & men, warres fuell; and
Almost his Empire under his command.
Those troops which had the power to vanquish thee
Hellen, I feare to us may noxious be.
One, Hector, but who 'tis, I doe not know,
Paris reports, deales with a deadly blow.
Him flie, if care of me in thee doe rest:
Still beare his name grav'd in thy mindfull breast.
And as from him, so from the rest still flee,
And thinke all there so many Hectors bee.
And say, whens'ere thou dost to fight prepare,
My Laodamia will'd me to forbeare.
If Troy must needs fall by a Grecian foe,
Without thy wounds, O let it finde its woe.
Let Menelaus fight, and strive t'obtaine
From Paris, that which Paris tooke againe.
And foyle in armes whom he in cause o're-throwes,
Wives must be sought, though midst a thousand foes.
Thy cause farre different is, fight thou to scape:
And safe retreat unto thy Ladies lap.
Yee Dardans 'mongst so many, spare me one:
Nor cause my bloud from out his body runne.
Alas! hee's none of those with glittring sword
Can combat, or stern breast to foes affoord.
[Page 77]He better may, whom bridall flames doe move:
Let others fight, let Protesilaus love.
And him I faine would have call'd back: my will
Serv'd well; though tongue (for Omen bad) stood stil.
When from thy fathers gates thou went'st towards Troy
Th'obnoxious threshold did thy foot annoy.
I saw't, and sigh'd: and murm'ring soft did say,
Be this a signe of thy returne, I pray.
These I relate, to quaile thy adventrous minde:
But doe thou cause my feares may turne to winde.
Besides, by fate he doom'd to death doth stand,
Who first of Greekes sets foot on Trojan strand.
And curst is she first wailes her slaughtred love:
Grant heavens in this thou mayst a coward prove.
'Mongst thousand ships let thine the thousandth bee:
And last of all disturbe the troubled sea.
Be thou the last from out the ship doth come:
The land thou seek'st, is not thy native home.
At thy returne then ply't, with sayles and oare;
And strive with nimble steps t'attain the shore.
Whether the Sun be set, or beames displayes,
Thou art my care, my griefe, in nights, in dayes.
But most in nights; a time for such most sweet,
Whose wide-stretcht arms their wisht embracements meet.
Vain dreams I catch at, lonely laid at ease,
And whilst I want true joyes, ev'n false joyes please.
But why pale-hew'd dost thou so oft appeare?
And seeme with sad complaints to strike mine eare?
With which affright, I shades of night invoke,
Nor wants an Altar my appeasing smoke.
Incense, and teares, I offer on each shrine;
Which sparkling blaze, like flames, by powr'd-on-wine.
When shall I thee againe embrace? and lye
Languishing, rap't in loves sweet extasie.
[Page 78]Or when both joyn'd in sportfull bed wilt thou
The splendid actions of thy warefare shew?
Which whilst thou telst, thogh me they joy to heare,
Mixt kisses shalt thou give, mixt kisses beare.
By these sweet pauses words more gracefull bee:
By such delayes the tongue becomes more free.
But when the sea I minde, the windes, and Troy,
Sollicitous feare doth all my hopes destroy.
Besides, your wind-boūd navy much dismayes
My thoghts, through adverse streams you force your waies.
Who gainst the wind would seeke his home? yet you
Fly from't, and though the seas forbid, you'l through.
Ev'n'Neptunes selfe debarres you from his Towne:
Men whither rush you? to your homes each one.
Where flye ye Greekes? harke how the winds say no?
Not chance, but heaven hath wild you must not goe.
But why divine I? Omens hence: and may
Soft-breathing gales affoord you prosp'rous way.
The Trojan dames I envy, that can stand
And see their slaughtred friends, their foes at hand,
The new made wife, her husbands head will there
Claspe in an helme, and give him Armes to beare.
Armes will she give, and with those Armes a kisse:
An office unto both of equall blisse.
And ush'ring forth her spouse with charge of love,
Command him haste, and yeeld his Armes to love.
He mindfull of her charge, and recent doome,
Will wisely fight, and have an eye towards home.
When she at his returne his helme and shield
Will loose, and rest in her warme bosome yeeld.
But I in doubt still live, and feare makes mee
Think all that might, already done to be.
Yet in strange coasts whilst thou sterne Armes dost beare,
In lively wax have I thy visage here.
[Page 79]That doe I court, to that words onely due
To thee I give, and kinde embraces too.
Trust me 'tis more than what it seemes to bee:
Had it a voyce, each one would sweare 'twere thee.
That view I, that for reall spouse retaine,
And plaine to that, as it could speake againe.
By thy returne, and corps (deare Saints to me)
And by our mindes and wedlockes paritie.
By thy lov'd head (which deckt with silver haire
May I behold, and safe brought home) I sweare.
Where thou commandst I'le follow, whether thou
Or living art, or what I feare farre moe.
This charge my letters utmost clause shall bee,
Looke to thy selfe, and have a care of mee.
THE ARGVMENT OF HIPERMNESTRA'S Epistle to Linus.

DAnaus the sonne of Belus, had by sundry wives fistie daughters; his brother Aegyptus had as many sons: betwixt these Aegyptus desires wedlocke. But Danaus (foretold by the Oracle, that his sonne-in-law should be­reave him of his life) to avoyd the match, sayles to Argos. This contempt his brother stormes at: and forthwith sends his sonnes with an Army, and strictly chargeth them, never to returne unto him, but either with the head of Danaus, or his daughters for their wives. Danaus by s [...]ege is compelled to yeeld unto his brothers suit. But the virgins were com­manded by their father, on the marriage night, (with wea­pons for that purpose given them) to destroy their husbands: which they all (excepting Hypermnestra) performed. But shee awaked hers, and counseld him to take his slight. The morning come, Danaus findes the deed perpetrated by all save Hypermnestra: whom hee most cruelly caused to bee cast into prison: whence beneath her loading gyves, she writes unto her saved spouse this Epistle, intreating him either to re­scue her from her miserable bondage, or if death should bee her lot, to take care for her sepulture.

TO thee, (that 'mongst so many didst decline
Their wives dire steele) sends Hypermnestra thine.
[Page 81]Chain'd in strong gyves, am I in prison pent;
Being good, to mee's a cause of punishment.
And since no sword against thy throat I rais'd,
I'me guilty made: which done, I'had then bin prais'd▪
Then so t'have pleas'd, thus let me guilty bee:
The [...]'s none can grieve, t'have hands from bloudshed free.
Me let my sire with fire I never wrong'd,
Consume, or lights to nuptiall rites belong'd.
Or take with sword, which ill hee gave, my life;
That th'death the husband scapt, may seaze the wife.
Yet shall he never force my tongue to tell
I do repent; it irkes not t'have done well.
Let Danaus, let my sisters, mourne their ill:
Such sad events, such actions follow still.
My heart at thought of that blacke blood-stain'd night,
Yet quakes; and feare forbids my hand to write.
She that her husbands death should have drawne on,
Ev'n shakes to write of murther never done.
Yet I'le essay: when dubious glimm'ring light
Had made dayes evening, and the morn of night.
To the Pelasgians stately towers we came,
To his arm'd guests doth Aegypt welcome frame.
On every side gold-garnisht lamps did shine,
And impious fumes smok't on th'indiffrent shrine.
The people Hymen chaunt, who shunnes their cry,
And angry Iuno did her Argos flye.
Behold the wine-gorg'd youths with clamors round,
Their balmy lockes with fragrant chaplets crown'd:
To bridall beds (their funerall piles) addresse:
And fatall Downe with death-doom'd bodies presse.
And now with wine and sleep ore-load they lay:
The peacefull towne to silent rest gave way.
When round about, me thought, the grones there flue
Of slaughtred-men, and what I thought, was true.
[Page 82]My bloud straight faild: heat fled my limbes: and I
Vpon my new-try'd bed did trembling lye.
As, mov'd by Zephyre, shake light eares of corne,
A [...] poplar leaves by aires coole breath are borne:
Ev'n so; or more, shooke I; thou lay'dst secure:
The wine thou drank'st, had soporiferous power.
My feares exil'd through my sterne sires command,
I rose; and graspt the blade in quiv'ring hand.
'Tis truth I speake: the steele I thrice upheld,
Which thrice together with mine arme rebeld.
Yet, by my fathers charge, still urg'd and made
Bold, on thy guiltlesse throat the sword I layd.
But feare, and pitty, my attempts withstood.
And my chast hand abhor'd that deed of blood.
My robes I rent, my dangling Tresses wrung:
And these few words breath'd forth with murm'ring tongue.
"Thy fathers cruell Hyp [...]rmnestra, tend
"His will: thine husband to his brothers send.
"But I a virgin am, and mild thereto:
"With such dire tools weak hands have nought to do.
"What though? take heart, & with joynt courage run
"With thy bold sisters, who by this have done.
"No, if this hand could act a murth'rous deed,
"Stain'd with its mistresse gore, it then should bleed.
"How 'cause they hold ther uncles realm, have they
"Offended; since with strangers 'tmust away?
"Suppose they death deserve, yet what's my ill?
"What have I done, I may not good be still?
"What's sword, or warlike weapons unto me!
"Soft wooll, and distaffe farre more sitting be.
T [...]us [...]: and with my plaints teares flowd withall:
Which from mine eyes down on thy lim [...]s did fall.
Whilst thou t'embrace, threwst, thy drunk arms around.
They'd almost by my sword receiv'd a wound.
[Page 83]But I that fear'd my sire, his men, and day,
With these my words chac'd thy dull sleepe away.
Rise Lynus, rise, thou sole-surviving wight:
Hast, or with thee 'twill prove e [...]ernall night.
Affright thou startled'st up, sleep fled: dismayd
Within my hand thou view'dst the dreadfull blade.
Asking the cause; whilst night serve, flye sayd I,
Whilst night yet serv'd, thou fledst, and I stayd by.
And now twas morne, when Danaus came to see
His slaughtred sons, the summe prov'd short by thee.
Ill brookes he that escape of death in one,
And grieves more acts of bloodshed were not done.
Straight from my father by my Tresses trayld,
(Is this Loves meed?) was I to prison haild.
Since first faire Io to a Cow was turn'd,
And thencet'a goddesse, Iuno's ire hath burn'd.
Alas! 'tis paine enough for her poore soule
To lowgh; nor satisfie her I [...]ves controule.
On bankes of liquid Sire she stood alone;
And views large horns which earst were not her own.
And as to speake she strove, she lowgh'd: afraid
Of her strange forme, and at her voyce dismayd.
Wretch whither fliest? and why in streames that fleet,
Admirst thy selfe, and numbrest so thy feet?
Thou whom once Iuno fear'd, who scorn'dst her rage,
With leaves & sedges dost thine hūger swage.
Coole springs thou drink'st, 'maz'd at thy form thou star'st,
Fearing the Arms shold hurt thee which thou bear'st.
And who the mighty Iove didst please e'rewhile,
Once rich, lyest naked on the naked soyle.
By seas, lands, kindred streames, thou wild didst stray:
Seas, lands, and kindred streames doe yeeld thee way.
What is thy cause of flight, why roam'st thou so?
Alas, thou canst not these thy lookes forgoe!
[Page 84]What thou still fliest thou followest, and (too true)
Thou leadst thy selfe, and dost thy selfe pursue.
At length where seven-mouth'd Nil [...] to seas doth run,
She chang'd her beasts, and human shape put on.
But what need these gray-headed tales, when lo [...]
My yeares affoord as ample theames of woe.
My sire, and uncle hoth wage warre; and we
Farre from our home, and kingdome banisht be.
Whilst cruell he doth realme and scepter sway,
And needy we, with needy sire doe stray.
The remnant of my brothers left, is small;
Whom I bewaile, with those that wrought their fall.
In brothers, sisters, equall losse I beare:
And for both parts let fall my pittying teare.
Lo! 'cause thou liv'st, am I reserv'd for paine,
If vertue thus, what would my guilt sustaine?
Who late to hundred kinne, was nere ally
With one poore Brother living, now must dye.
But thou deare Ly [...]us, if a care or thought
Of me rests in thee; or my gifts thinkst ought;
Or lend me helpe, or death; if I expire
By stealth convey my corps to funerall fire.
And [...]ombe my bones embalm'd in many a teare▪
And let my Marble this briefe Distych beare.
(An barshreward of love) the death before
She sav'd her Spouse from, Hypermnestra bore.
More would I write, but that the pond'rous chaines
My hands o're-load, and feare my force restraines.
THE ARGVMENT of PARIS his Epistle to HELLEN.

PAris sayling to Troy, as Ambassadour to mediate for the restoring of his Aunt Hesione, was royally received by Menelaus: who im [...]ediately after his arrivall sayles to Creet, to dispose of his dead fathers goods. His absence gave occasion to the young Prince to sollicit his wife: The better to win her to his l [...]re, be writes unto her this artificiall E­pistle: wherein with admiration he extolls her heautie, makes deepe profession of his loves vaunts of his stately k [...]ndred, promises largely, and endeavours all that he may, to encline his beauteous hostesse to yeeld unto his suite.

HEalth to the beauteous Hellen, Paris sends,
Whose onely health upon thy love depends.
What shall I speake? or need my flames no tongue?
My love already knowne but too too long.
Though I could wish it hid, till time might reare
And set our joyes beyond the reach of feare.
But ill I cloake it: who loves fire can hide?
That by its proper flames is still descry'd.
If yet thou doubtst what may my meaning prove,
Thou hast my minde in these few words, I love.
Pardon confession then, and with such grace
Read thou t [...]e rest, as may become thy faces.
[Page 86]I joy to thinke my lines receiv'd by thee:
And hope perswades me once so I shall bee.
Which Loves faire mother perfect; nor in vaine
May I for thee, through her, this taske sustaine.
For (that thou mayst not ignorantly sin)
With heavens advice I did this act begin.
The prize is great, yet but my due I crave:
Thee for my spouse bright Cytherea gave.
She guide, Sigaean shores I left, and 'ssay
In Phereclean keele my dangerous way.
She calm'd the waves, and gave me prosprous gales:
Nor marvell, sea borne she, on seas prevailes.
As seas she calm'd, so may she calme my breast,
And bring my wishes to their wished rest.
My flames with me I brought, not found them here;
They, they, the causes of my journey were.
For me nor stormes, nor errour, hither brought,
Of purpose I Tanarian port have sought.
Nor thinke me hither stor'd with wares to tend;
The goods I have the favo'ring gods defend.
Nor yet your Grecian cities to survay,
Since mine own realms are farre more rich than they,
Thee, thee I seeke, whom golden Venus grace
Betroth'd me, wisht for er'e I knew thy face.
Thee mine Idaa saw, before mine eyes,
When Fame had first drawne thine effigies.
Nor let it yet thy strange amazement prove,
That loves swift darts from far have caus'd me love.
The fates have will'd it: and lest their decree
Thou breake, receive these truths I'le tell to thee.
When in my mothers wombe detain'd I lay.
She now full gone, and at th'expected daye
Dream't that in stead of a wisht-birth, there came
From her unburthend wombe, a mighty flame.
[Page 87]Affright she rose, and unto Priam told
The same, which he doth to his Priest unfold:
Who answers Paris sires should Ilion burne:
Which I to these my flames of love doe turne.
My forme and haughty minde, though I might seeme
Plebeian, shewd I came of noble stemme.
A place in Ida's shady vales, unknowne
To most there is; with spreading Holmes ore-growne.
Where never bleating sheepe, cliffe-climbing goat,
Nor bellowing oxe ere fill'd his greedy throat.
Here whilst I lean'd my selfe unto a tree,
Dardanian seas, and loftie towers to see,
The trampled earth me thought began to move:
(Ti's truth I speake, truth that thou'lt scarce approve)
When (borne with winged speed) before mine eye
Stood th'neece of Atlas, and faire Plione.
(What lawfull was to see be lawfull told)
Within his hand he held a rod of gold.
When straight bright Venus, Pallas, heavens great Queen
All gently lighted on the verdant greene.
Amaz'd I stood, my haires stiffe-rais'd a bide:
When cast off feare the winged Herald cry'd,
Thou'rt here a judge of beauty, stay and tell,
Which of these three doth in rich forme excell.
And addes Ioves charge thereto: which soone as sayd,
His way unseen through empty aire he made.
My mind now rows'd, and somewhat bolder growne,
I fear'd not to survay them one by one.
All worthy seem'd t'orecome, but yet I fear'd
The glory could not 'mongst them all be shar'd.
For one in lookes did farre surpasse the rest;
As her thy selfe for Loves faire Queen had guest.
So great a strife there was to overcome,
As with large gifts each sought to buy my doome.
[Page 88] Iove's wife a realme, Pallas doth vertue boast,
As I twixt great, and good, was almost lost.
When Venus smiling sayd, let not the sence
Of these possesse thee, fild with harsh suspence.
Il'e give thee love, to thy embraces wonne,
Shall the faire Leda's more faire daughter runne.
This sayd for gifts, and forme, the chiefe approv'd;
Triumphant to her heavenly spheare she mov'd.
Mean while (my fortune now more prosp'rous grown)
By certain signes I Priams sonne am knowne.
Receiv'd, the Court with joy was fild, and all
In Troy, that day still keepe a festivall.
As I seeke thee, so mayds sought me, though vaine,
Whose laboured wish thou mayst alone attaine.
Great Princes daughters, nobles lik'd me well,
In nymphs a care, and love of me did dwell.
Whose births and formes were both despis'd by mee,
When once I entertain'd a hope of thee.
Thee in the day my fancie viewes: in night
Thee my delicious dreames present my sight.
Present what wouldst, that absent thus didst please?
I burnt, though farre the sire that did me seaze.
Nor more to hope would I endebted be,
But meant t'obtaine my wishes through the sea.
Straight Trojan Pines by Phrygian Axe were feld:
And all trees else for shipping usefull held.
Sceepe Gargarus was rob'd of woody crowne,
And store of Timber Ida sent me downe:
Strong Okes for ships substantiall keeles were layd,
Whose ample sides were with crook'd ribs arayd.
Saile-yards, tall masts, and sails on them we place,
And carved gods our painted vessels grace.
But in the ship in which I sought my joy,
Stood my loves surery; Venus and her boy.
[Page 89]My navie now past Arts last labouring hand,
Straight (onward) for Aegean seas I stand.
My sire and mother both did urge my stay,
And strove to hinder my intended way.
My sister too with haires all loosely drest,
Ev'n when our sayls for lucky gales were prest.
Where fly'st she cry'd: thou'lt bring back flames with thee
Thou knowst not what a fire thou seekst through sea.
And true she spake; those very fires are found,
And scorching love my tender breast doth wound.
The Port I quit, and helpt by furth'ring wind,
Vnto thy shores, Oebalian nymph, enclyn'd.
Thy spouse receiv'd me kindly: nor was this
Done but by purpose of the Deities.
And whats'oere rare, or conspicuous be,
Or worth the sight in Sparta, shewd to me.
But I, whose fancie still on thee did lye,
Could let no other object greet mine eye.
Whom when I saw, amaz'd I stood; unwares
I felt my heart to fage with new-sprung cares.
Such lookes as I remember't, such a grace,
When she my judgement sought, had Cypris face.
Hadst thou with her in that quaint strife been seen,
Faire Venus palme still in suspence had been.
Large Elogies 'tis true, there rumoured bee,
Nor is there land that's ignorant of thee.
In Phrygia none, none from the Sunnes up rise,
With thee for beauty beares an equall prize.
Yet trust me, all thy prayse to truth gives place;
Fame hath been almost envious 'gainst thy face.
More here I find, than she ere promis'd, by
Thy reall forme, thy fame doth conquered lye.
Nor without cause th'all-knowing Theseus lov'd,
And worthy him, thee for a rape approv'd.
[Page 90]Whilst in the Cirque (thy countries custome then)
Thou naked sport'st thy selfe mid'st naked men.
That thee he forc'd I like: restor'd admire:
So good a prey did constant guard require.
First from my bloudied trunke should part my head,
E're thou shouldst have been ravisht from my bed.
Should ere these hands of mine thy limbes forgoe?
Or living let thee leave my bosome so?
And if restor'd, I something yet had tane,
Nor wholly should have Venus idly layne.
Or I thy virgin fruit had cropt: or what
Might have been tooke without the losse of that.
Yeeld then to Paris, and his firme love try:
Whose flames, in funer all flames shall onely dye.
Thee I prefer'd before a kingdomes state,
Proffer'd to me by Iuno but of late.
And so I might thine I vorie necke embrace,
Vertue (though Pallas gift) was thought but base.
When the three Power disclos'd on Ida's hill,
Their naked beauties to my censuring skill.
Yet grieve I not, nor think my choyce is ill:
My mind stands fixt unto my first vote still.
This onely boone (oh! wot thy all this toyle!)
Of thee I crave, give not my hopes the foyle.
No base-borne wretch it is that sues to thee,
Nor shalt my wife with losse of credit be.
If thou enquirest, thou'lt find that Iove's our kin,
Electra too, besides the rest betweene.
My Sire rules Asia, than the which there's found
No land more rich, almost without a bound.
There shalt innumerous Cities, roofes of gold,
And temples that become their gods behold.
There Troy thou'lt see, and Turrets that aspire
On walls, first rais'd by the Phaebeian Lyre.
[Page 91]What need I here the populous crowd relate?
The land's scare able to sustaine its waight.
Troy's dames will meet thee in a thronging traine,
Scarce will the streets the Phrygian wives containe.
How oft thou'st call Achaia poore, and bare!
When each house here is worth a Citie there.
Yet let not Sparta be contemn' [...] by me,
The land thou'rt borne in needs must happy be.
Yet Sparta's small, thou worthy pompe and grace:
That place doth suit but ill to such a face.
A face that should in various dresse be dight,
And each day revell in a new delight.
When thou our mens attire thus rich dost see,
What habit (thinkst thou) will the womens be?
O be not coy then, nor a Trojan scorne
For spouse, faire nymph, in fam'd Therapnae borne.
He was a Trojan, and our kin, who now
Allays Joves Nectar with his cooling snow.
A Trojan Tython was, yet rapt away
By her who gives night bounds, and birth to day.
A Trojan he, with whom Loves dame is sayd
T'have dally'd oft in the Idaean shade.
Nor doe I thinke Atrides ev'n by thee,
For yeares, and forme, would be compar'd with mee.
No father-in-law we bring, to cause the Sonne
From his dire banquets with scar'd Steeds to runne.
No gransire stain'd with slaughter of his kin,
That gives to seas a Title through his sin.
No Ancestor of ours in Stygian lake
Gapes at vain fruit, midst streams, nor thirst can slake
But why these vants? if their ally thy bed
Possesse, Ioves forc'd to be this houses head.
That vile unworthy wretch (oh shamefull spite)
Freely enjoyes thy sweet embrace all night.
[Page 92]By me, except at boord, thou scarce art spy'd,
In which short space I paine enough abide.
Such feasts I wish may to my foes redound,
As I oft meet with when the Table's crown'd.
I hate my entertainment, loathe't, when I
Behold that clowne on thy faire necke to lye.
And fretting vexe, (but what need this be knowne?)
When thy choyce limbes he wraps within his gowne.
If (killing sight) ye doe to kisse begin,
To barre my sight I hold the cup between.
At each close hugge mine eyes to ground I throw,
My meat within my mouth doth irksome grow.
Oft have I sigh'd, and noted too the while
(Faire wanton) from my sighes, to spring thy smile.
Oft I with wine have sought to quench my flame,
But that, like fire, in fire, more fierce became.
To shun such sights, with head reverst I've layne,
Yet hope of thee call'd back mine eyes againe.
What shall I doe? they are a griefe to see,
Yet greater griefe to lose the sight of thee.
Well as I may I cloake these flames of mine,
Yet ev'n dissembled love doth clearly shine.
To thee alas! full we I my wounds are knowne,
And would to God they were to thee alone.
How-oft, teares issuing, have I turn'd awry,
Lest he should see, and aske the reason why?
How oft have! some am'rous tale begun,
Still gazing till my whole discourse were done?
And in fain'd names bewrayd my love to thee:
'Tis I that lover am, 'tis I am hee.
Oft, that I so more lavishly might prate,
Have I become a drunken counterfeit.
Once I remember thy loose garments fell,
And to mine eyes did thy nak't breast reveale.
[Page 93]Breasts that for white, with new-falne snow contest,
Pure milke, or Iove when he thy mother prest.
And ravisht with a sight did so excell,
The wreathed goblet from my fingers fell.
If thou thy daughter kisse, I not refraine,
But with a kisse take that kisse off againe.
Supinely layd oft sung of ancient love,
And by a beck some secret signe would move.
Late I essayd by flattring words to woe
The helpe of Clymene, and Aethra too.
Who answer'd in the dialect of feare,
And left me in the midst of all my pray'r.
Would heaven would thee some combats prize de­cree.
That so thou mightst become the victors fee.
Then, as Hippomenes Allanta bore
From all the suitors foyld in race before;
And as to Phrygia Hippodomia came:
So like a Queen shouldst thou have done the same.
As fierce Alcides rent Achelous horne,
(For thy embrace faire Deianira borne.)
With like effect my courage should take course,
And shew thou wert sole subject of my force.
But now nought rests for me, but to entreat
Or humbly (so thou please) to kisse thy feet.
Oh thou! thy brothers onely glorious grace!
And, but that kinne, well worthy Ioves embrace.
Or may I beare thee to Sygaean strand,
Or be intomb'd here in Taenarian land.
With no slight scarres my breast is toucht; but sound
Rooted in inmost marrow, lies my wound.
And right (I mind) Cassandra spake when she
Sayd that an heavenly shaft should light on me.
Cease then to scorne a fore-driv'n lover; so
May to thy wish the gods propitious grow.
[Page 94]Much could I say, to tell my tale outright,
Receive me to thy bed in silent night.
What art asham'd? dost blush at it? and dread
To violate the bond of lawfull bed?
Ah! foolish wretch; nay rusticke may I say,
Thinkst such a face can e're want sinnes Allay.
Or change thy face, or minde, one needs must bee,
"Chast life and beauty seldome can agree.
Iove joyes in stealths. Venus the same doth love,
Such sports as these, gave thee a sire of Iove.
'Tis strange, if any force in love doe last,
That Ioves, and Leda's daughter, should be chast.
Then live thou chast, when thee my Troy shall see;
And mayst thou know no other crimes but me.
Now lets doe that which marriage houre shall mend.
If Venus did not vainly things pretend.
And this, though not his words, his deeds exhort:
H'hath left his home, lest he should spoyle our sport.
He could not have pickt out a time more fit
To visit Creet: oh man of monstrous wit!
Nay when he went, saith he, I charge you beare
To this my Trojan guest, respectfull care.
Yet thou neglect'st thy husbands kinde request,
Nor hast a care of thy commended guest.
And canst thou think this brainlesse wretch to bee
One that doth throughly prize thy forme, or thee?
No, no, he skills them not; for did he know
He ne're would trust them with a stranger so.
Though thee my love nor words do move, yet see
W'are urg'd unto't by opportunitie.
We were stark fooles, more void than hee of sence,
Should so secure a time passe idly hence.
With his owne hands he gave me unto thee,
Pray use the honest mans simplicitie!
[Page 95]In empty bed thou these long nights dost lye,
In empty bed so lye, (yet rest not) I.
Let mutuall joyes us to each other joyne,
Oh night! that wilt the clearest day out-shine!
Then would I sweare by all the gods that bee,
And tye my selfe in sacred bands to thee.
Then (if my stedfast faith do prove but true)
I'le make thee quickly wish my countries view.
If feare or shame possesse thee, lest thy fame
Suffer in following me, I'le beare the blame.
Thy brothers deeds, and Theseus I pursue,
Nor canst be mov'd with types more neare, or true.
Thee Theseus rapt, the two Leucippa they;
And I'le the fourth be numbred in the fray.
My Fleet's at hand, well man'd, with arm'd aray,
Whilst O ares, and winde, shall wing us out our way.
Queen-like shalt ride through each Dardanian town,
Whilst the rowt think some goddesse is come downe.
Wheres'ere thou tread'st, shal odorous sents abound,
And slaughtred Victims strew the bloudied ground.
My brothers, sisters, mother, sire shall bring
Ilians, all Troy to thee their Offering.
Alas! I've scarce spoke ought of what shall bee:
More than these lines can tell, thou there shalt see.
Nor feare being rap't fierce war should us pursue,
Or that all Greece should rayse its force thereto.
Pray who 'mongst former rapes did armes regaine?
Believ't, all feares are in this case but vaine.
Orythia faire the Thracians forc't from farre,
And yet Bistonion coasts were free from warre.
Iason Medea in Tritonian keele,
Convay'd, nor felt Thessalia Colchos steele.
He who rap't thee, rap't Phaedra; no Alarmes
Made Minos yet, nor rais'd his Creet to Armes.
[Page 96]"Terrour in these exceeds the danger still;
"Things to be fear'd, to over-feare, is ill.
Yet, so thou please, suppose a warre ensue:
Know I have force, and wounding weapons too.
Nor is my Asia lesse in bounds, or force,
Than Greece, a land well stor'd with men and horse.
Nor yet Atrides Paris ought exceeds
In manly courage, or in warlike deeds.
Even but a boy, from slaughtred foes I gain'd
My by-driv'n heard; and thence my name attain'd.
Ev'n but a boy, I men in fight ore-threw;
Deiphobus, Ilioneus too.
Nor thinke in hand-fight I have onely Art,
Full well from farre, is fixt my thirled dart.
Nor canst thou say, his youth did these fulfill,
Nor furnish thy Atrides with my skill.
Grant these, yet Hector cann't his brother bee:
Who stands in stead of num'rous troopes to mee.
Thou know'st me not, nor what's my strength: no [...] yet
What kind of man thou for thy spouse shalt get.
Or by no warre thou shalt be sought in fine,
Or Doricke campes shall yeeld in Armes to mine.
Nor thinke I much to warre for such a wife:
Such great rewards may well maintaine a strife,
Nay thou, should the whole world contend for thee;
To times eternall, fresh in fame shalt bee.
Then (gods still favouring) boldly leave the land.
And with full faith, my plighted vowes demand.
THE ARGVMENT OF HELLENS Epistle to PARIS.

HEllen having received and read the Trojans letter, with much indignation reprehends and tannts her wanton guest, and (for the better maintaining of her ho­nour) labours to confute, and withstand his reason [...] and per­swasions: yet so, that amidst her slighting, her disdains, there appeared some glimmering [...]f her affection: With cunning a long time sh [...] discourseth: sometimes she speakes him faire, then che [...]kes his hope; now pro [...]ises, agai [...]e e [...]ies, now be­lieves him, anon she doubts. Till [...]t [...]ength sh [...]n part conde­scends to his desires; and adviseth him in the further pros [...] ­cution o [...] his suit, not by letter to solicite her, but to impart b [...]t mind to Aethra and Clymene, her companions both, and of counsell with her in this designe.

SInce these thy lines have thus abus'd my sight,
The glory of an answer seemes not slight.
And dar [...]st thou then, then lawes of nostage broke,
A spoused wives firme vowed faith provoke?
Was it for this, that tost on boistrous seas,
Taenarian port at length did yeeld thee ease?
For this, that though thou cam'st from regions farre,
Our palace gates did not thine entrance barre?
That thou such wrong for my desert shouldst shew?
Thou that thus cam'st, wert thou a guest, or foe?
[Page 98]I doubt not but my just complaint by thee
Will be esteem'd full of rustieitie.
Rude let me seeme, so not devoyd of shame:
And so my life knowes no foule blot, nor blame.
Although my face no sad-fain'd looke doth heare,
Though on my front no wrinkled brow I weare:
Yet my fame's cleare, I've liv'd without a staine:
No letcher yet of me could boast his gaine.
Which makes me more to wonder, what gave head
To thy rash boldnesse, thus to hope my bed.
With me, because once Theseus made a scape,
Am I deem'd worthy of a second rape?
Had I been wonne, the fault on me might lye;
But being forc't, what save to nill could I?
Nor did he yet attaine the fruit he sought:
And except feare it selfe, I suffered nought.
A kisse or so, strugling with much adoe
The wretch obtain'd, but ne're could further goe.
With these thy vilenesse would not sated be:
But heavens were kinde, he was not like to thee.
Vntouch't he let me goe: his milde intent
Lessen'd his crime: nay th'youth did sure repent.
Theseus repents that Paris might ensue!
For feare my fame should not be blaz'd enough.
Yet I'me not wrath (a lover who can chide?)
If these thy flames no feigned slights doe hide.
And that I doubt: not 'cause my faith is small,
Or that my face I doe mistrust at all;
But 'cause beliefe is oft a womans woe,
And mens words want of faith a gtaine or two.
Let others sinne: though rarea chaste wife bee,
Who shall forbid that rare one to be me?
Because my mother seem'd soon wonne, from thence
Do'st think I'le yeeld unto the like offence?
[Page 99]My mother may a just excuse assume
For her misdeeds; th adulterer lurk't in plume.
I cannot say I knew not: nor call in
An errour to lend shadow to my sin.
By th'authour well did she her crime redeeme:
But by what Iove, shall I pray happy seeme?
Thou vauntst thy stock, kin, many a Princely name,
This house in worth is of sufficient fame.
Iove, Atreus Grandsire, Tantall's, Pelops. I
And the Tyndarian Off spring here passe by.
Laeda gives Iove my sire, who credulous soule
Tooke to her bosome a deceitfull foule.
Goe now, and brag thy Troy's originall,
Ag'd Priam, and Laomedon withall:
Both whom I reverence: yet know from thee
Iove's remov'd five, from me but one degree.
And though Troy's scepters beare a potent sway,
Yet doe I thinke ours are no lesse than they.
Grant it in wealth, in men, the upper hand;
Yet ne'rethelesse 'tis but a barb'rous land.
Such ample gifts thy rich-vein'd lines do move,
As ev'n may tempt a goddesse unto love.
But would I now to passe shames bounds begin;
'Tis thou shouldst be my greatest cause of sin.
Or I would blamelesse lead my life still true,
Or rather thee than all thy gifts pursue.
As them I scorne not, so the best I take
Those, which the giver still doth pretious make.
But most thy love, thy toyle I prize: for me
That thy strong hopes should tempt the wide stretcht sea.
Full well at boord (though with dissembling shew
I cloake the same) I note the trickes you [...]oe.
Sometimes thou view'st me with a wanton eye,
Whose bold fixt gaze turnes my chast sight awry.
[Page 100]Somtimes thou sight'st; then tak'st my cup, & where
Thou saw'st me drink, thou straightwaies drinkst just there.
How oft with fingers, & with speaking brow,
Have I observ'd thee secret signes to show?
Oft fear'd I lest my husband should have seen,
And blusht in that they have not closer been.
Oft to my selfe in whispers would I say,
This wretch is shamelesse; nor from truth did stray.
Oft have I read, writ on the boord above
in wine, my name; and underneath't, I love.
Yet seem'd to sleight it with averted eye:
Which, now, ah me! my selfe hath learn'd to cry.
If sinne I would, with such sweet slights as these,
Thou both my heart, my selfe, and all might'st ceaze.
Nor wants thou, I confesse, a beauteous face,
That might a virgin win to thy embrace.
Guiltlesse by thee yet others happy prove:
Then e're my fame be foyld by forraigne love.
Learne then by me to want what's faire with ease:
"Tis vertue to abstaine from things that please.
How many thinkst have wisht thy wish their prize?
Hath Paris onely the discerning eyes?
Thou see'st not more, but (bold) dost more essay;
Nor hast more heart, but farre more front than they.
Would with swift keele thou then hadst reach'd our
When thousand suiters soght my virgin flower. shore
Once seene, of thousands thou the first hadst bin;
My husband needs must pardon me herein.
To things possest thou com'st, to tasted joyes:
And (slow) another what thou seek'st, enjoyes.
Yet as I wish to be thy wife, so know
Not 'gainst my will A rides holds me now.
Cease then my breast with winning words to move,
Nor seek to hurt whom thou pretendst to love.
[Page 101]What lot chance gave me, let me keepe the same;
Nor weare the spoyle of my defiled shame.
But Venus me betroth'd thee, when on Ide
Three naked powers to thee themselves apply'd:
A kingdome one, th'other a warlike name,
And me the third, did for thy wife proclaime.
I scarce believe such heavenly wights should come,
And prostitute their beauty to thy doome.
Grant this for truth, yet that needs false must bee,
Where I am sayd to be thy judgements fee.
Nor am I so selfe proud, my selfe to deeme
So high-priz'd in a goddesses esteeme.
'T [...]s enough my beauty humane eyes approve;
That Venus prais'd it shewes her spite, not love.
Yet I not doubt, but like those prayses; why
What my heart longs for, should my tongue deny?
Nor thinke it much th [...]u wert believ'd so ill;
"In things of weight our faith is tardy still.
My chiefe joy's then't'have pleas'd faire Venus eyes,
Next, to have seem'd to thee the greatest prize:
And that dame Iuno's (Hellens beauty heard)
And Pallas guifts were not by thee prefer'd.
So I thy vertue, I thy kingdome prove,
Steel'd were my heart, should I not lend thee love.
But steel'd I am not, yet to love decline
Him whom I think can hardly e're be mine.
Why should I seeke to plough the thirsty sands,
Or follow hope which ev'n the place withstands?
I'me rude to Venus thefts: nor e're as yet
(Heavens witnesse!) gull'd my spouse, by any sleight.
That now my words I write in Tablets, know
'T's a taske they nere before did undergoe.
Happy who use it; I unskill'd therein,
Thinke all paths rough, that lead me to the sin.
[Page 102]Ev'n fear's a plague; abasht, me thinkes I see
All eyes (as wondering) set at gaze on mee.
Nor thinke I false; I've hear'd th'ill-murm'ring rout:
And Aethra told me what they late gave out.
Dissemble then: unlesse thou'ldst quit thy suite.
But why desist? dissemble, thou canst doo't.
Sport; but yet close: greater, not greatest sway
W'enjoy, in that Atrides is away.
Who now from hence to distant coasts is gone,
Vrgent, and just; was the occasion.
I, when he once made doubt to goe indeed,
Sayd goe my deare, and make returne with speed.
Pleas'd with the omen, me he kist: and see
Of house, my state, and guest, y'have care saith hee.
Scarce held I laughter; striving which to stay,
Save, Sir I shall, I not one word could say.
Forthwith, winds faire, his sayles for Greece he set.
But thinke not therefore all things lawfull yet.
So is he hence, that gone, he guards me here:
Know'st not that kings far-stretching arms do beare?
Fame too, annoys us, for the more you praise
My face, the more his jealous fears you raise.
What was my pleasure, now's mine hurt become,
Better't had been if fame had still been dombe.
Nor wonder that alone I'me left with thee:
Hees confident of my integritie.
He doubts my face, but trusts my life; secure
My faith, my beauty makes him feares indure.
Thou warn'st me not to let time slip nor slight
A hop so fit, caus'd by this simple weight.
I would, and feare: my wills not yet exact,
And my mind staggers in a dubious tract.
My spouse is hence, thou matelesse ly'st at ease,
Thy beauty me, my beauty thee doth please
[Page 103]Long nights with long discourse we entertaine:
Thou gentle, sweet, one house doth both containe.
May I not live if all things plead not sin,
I know not yet what strange feare holds me in.
What ill thou fu'st wold thou could'st wel constrain,
Then might'st thou soone shake off my coy disdaine.
Oft wrongs to some have been commodious held:
How blest were I, could I be so compell'd!
Yet whilst 'tis young, let's rather quench desire:
Small flames by sprinkled water soone expire,
And strangers love is fraile and erres as they,
And when thou thinkst it sure then flyes away.
This Thoas, this did Minos daughter prove,
Who both imbrac't, and rew'd their lawlesse love;
Nay thou (false man) though long time lov'd, art said
T'have left Oenon [...], that desertfull maid.
Nor canst thy selfe deny't: and know that wee
Had care to enquire all that we could of thee.
Though thou in love wouldst constant fain prevaile,
Thou canst not see thy Phrygians prest for saile,
Whilst we conferre, when hop'd for night shall come,
Straight blows a wind that serves to bear thee home.
And in mid course of our delightfull play,
Our joy shall cease, and love with winds away.
Shall I then goe and see prais'd Troy, be known
Daughter in law to great Laomedon?
No, no, I weigh fame more than so: that she
Should each where trumpet forth mine Obloquie.
What might my Sparta thinke of me, or what
All Greece, or Asia, or thy Troy to that?
What might old Priam, and thy mother say,
Thy brothers, and thy sisters tool pray?
Nay thou, how canst me faithfull hope, nor find
Thine owne example crucifie thy mind?
[Page 104]Whos'ere from farre enters Troy's harbour, hee
Will cause thy doubt, and by anxietie.
How oft in age wilt me adultresse call?
Forgetfull thou the [...]uthour wert of all.
Thou my faul [...]s cause and blamer wilt become:
E're that earth hide me in a darksome tombe.
But I shall I [...]an wealth enjoy, rich dyesse,
And gifts farre larger than thy promises.
Robes rarely wrought, and weeds of Ty [...]ian dye;
Huge heapes of glittering gold shall greet mine eye.
Pardon me Sir: I count not gifts so deare;
I know not how that land may treat me there.
If wrong'd, in Phrygia who'le my wrongs correct?
Whence shall I Sires, whence brothers aid expect?
Large vowes false Iason to Medea past,
Yet shee's expulst from Aesons house at last.
No Aeta there, to whom she might returne,
No mother, there no sister was to mourne.
The like I feare not though, no more did she:
"Hope's oft deceiv'd through it's owne Augurie.
The Ships now tost upon the billowie Maine,
At leaving Port, found it a glasse like plaine.
That brand much frights me, which with fiery glean [...]
Vsher'd thy birth-day in thy mothers dream.
And those prophetick Sawes which have foretold
Pelasgian flames should Iliums Towres enfold.
And as faire Venus favours thee, alone
'Cause she two Trophies, by thy judgement wonne:
So feare I those, (if thy report be true)
Whose claime was consur'd and condemn'd by you.
Nay, should I goe, I'me sure warres rage to feele:
And our loves passage must be forc'd through steele.
Could Hippodimia in her cause compell
Thracians and Centaures, to a warre so fell?
[Page 105]And thinkst my spouse, Brothers, and Sire, will show,
Mov'd with a wrath more just, themselves more slow?
Though thou for valour dost so largely vie,
Trust me, thy face doth give thy words the lye.
More fit for Venus thou, than Mars wouldst prove.
Let Champions fight, but Paris onely love.
Let Hector you so praise, supply thy roome.
The loves sweet warfare better would become.
Which I my selfe would try, could I but grow
More bold, or wise, and Maids, if wife, will doe.
Perhaps e're long I may more gentle be,
(Shame layd aside) and yeeld my hands to thee.
That thou dost urge a private conference,
I'guesse your talke, and what you mean from thence▪
But thou'rt too quicke, thy crop's but in the blade,
Perhaps 'tmay prove commodious to have stayd.
Thus farre my letter shewes my minds disease,
Here cease this work, here my tyr'd hand take case.
What rests we will by Clymene confer,
And Aethra, each my Mate, and Counseller.
THE ARGVMENT of LEANDERS Epistle to HERO.

AT Sestos, a maritime village in Europe, direlt the fair & lovely Hero: entirely affected by Leander, a noble youth, & dwelling on the opposite shore in Abydos, a village of Asia, to whom he nightly acustomed to swim through the Hellespont, and to returne backe againe at breake of day. At length the seas with boysterous windes incenst, debard Leander of his wonted passage. Seven nights were past, since the earnest lover had seene his Hero's face. By chance, a hold and fea [...] lesse Mariner puts forth for Sestos: by whom he sends unto her this his following Epistle: wherein hee re­comforts her hopes, protests his faithfull love, complaines a­gainst the stormy tide, & vowes (despight of rigorous seas) to swim to her at last; and put his life unto a hazard, rather than be debard the sight of her, in whose love he averres, re­maines his onely blisse.

HEslth unto Hero doth Leander send;
Which he had rather bring, would seas rage end.
Were the gods kind, and to my love agreed,
With eyes unwilling thou these lines shouldst read.
But they're not: why doe they my wishes stay?
Nor suffer me to run my wonted way.
The heavens thou seest pitch-blacke, with winds the seas
Incenc'd: by ships scarce to be past with ease,
[Page 107]Save one, (and he too hold) by whom we sent
Our lines to thee, from shore his journey bent.
I was imbarking too; but whilst w'had been
Weighing anchor, all Abydos would have seen:
Nor could I (as before) my parents blinde,
Nay th'love wee would have hid, would then have shin'd.
Forthwith I writ, and said, blest letter go,
A friendly welcome will her hand bestow.
Perhaps to kisse thee with her rosie lips,
Whilst the sign'd wax with Iv'rie teeth she rips.
This softly sayd unto my selfe: the rest
Was to my paper by my hand exprest.
That hand, I wish might rather swim than write,
And bear me through th'accuslom'd waves with might.
More fitting farre to clap the smooth browd flood,
Yet now 'tmay serve to make me understood.
'Tis now seven nights (to mee a yeare and more)
Since the hoarse sea with troubled waves did rore.
In all this space, if one soft sleep did swage
My breast, may feas hold on their wofull rage.
Sad setting on some rock thy shores I see,
Present in minde where body cannot bee.
Besides mine eyes unto thy tower addrest,
Thy lights do spy, or seeme to spy at least.
Thrice I my garments on dry sands did lay,
Thrice naked did attempt my dangerous way.
But seas my youthfull enterprise withstood,
And over-whelmd me in the adverse flood.
And thou of all the swift-wing'd winds the worst,
Why thus with me dost wage a warre so curst?
'Gainst me (stern wretch) not seas, thou rav'st, ok me!
What would'st, if love had nere been known to thee!
Cold as thou art, thou canst not yet deny,
But in Actaan flames thou once didst fry.
[Page 108]And should one then have bar'd the acry way
To thy loves thefts, how wouldst have brookt it pray?
Oh spare me then, and thy rough wayes appease,
So favour thee the kinde Hippo [...]ades.
But all's in vain, he murmurs 'gainst my prayers;
And the mov'd waves not calmes, but higher reares.
Would me, Cree [...]s Artist, would his wings assigne!
Although th'lcarian shore doth nie adjoyne.
I'd suffer all; so wings my corps might beare,
And leaving water, cut the liquid aire.
Meane time, whilst all things hinder, seas, and wind,
My first loves stealths I will recall to minde.
'Twas night ('tis still my joy to think) when I
A lover, first my fathers gares did flye.
Straight casting off my clothes, and feare with these,
I plung'd my selfe into the sparkling seas.
The moone affoorded me her trembling rayes,
As an officious partner in my wayes.
Her viewd, I sayd, bright virgin aid my will,
And to thy mind revoke the Latmean hill.
Endimion keepes soft temper in thy heart:
Thy friendly face to these my stealths convert.
Thou, though a goddesse, didst a mortall woe:
And she's a goddesse whom I now pursue.
I passe her vertues, worthy breast, divine!
Scarce doth such forme, saye in a goddesse shine.
Set Venus and thy selfe aside, and she
The None-such is; be thine owne Iudg e, and see.
How much (when as thy selfe with silver ray
Appear'st) dimne starres unto thy fire give way.
So much more faire, than a [...]l that faire we find
Is she; dost doubt? troth then thy fight's but blind.
Such words I spake, or not unlike to these,
A lustill [...] I past the yeelding seas.
[Page 109]The radiant Moone, with beame of glistering light
Tinseld the wayes; and made a day of night.
No noyse was heard, (all calmly quiet) lave
The mu [...]mures which the moved waters gave.
Th'Ha [...]c [...]ons onely mindfull that remaine
Of Ceyx losse, notes sadly sweet did straine.
Mine armes now ty'rd with forcing way along.
Vnto the summit of the waves I sprong.
And spying light farre off, my fires sayd I
Burne there, that place containes my deity.
When straight fresh force supply'd my wasted store,
And seas seem'd fame more gentle than before.
Nor freezing streames annoy: for love (behold)
Had arm'd me with a med'cine 'gainst the cold.
The neerer still I to thy shores drew nie,
More apt to swim, and farre more briske was I.
But thou once seene, unto my mind new force
Thou gav'st, and madst'st me abler in my course.
Then I by swimming strove to please thine eye,
And threw mine armes to be discern'd on hie.
Scarce from the seas could thee thy nurse restraine.
Nor didst deceiveme, I perceiv'd it plaine.
Nor could she so with-hold thee, though she strave,
But that thy foot was drenched in the wave.
Arriv'd, thine armes and kisses crown'd my rest:
Kisses that gods might swim for, and be blest
Thine owne faire shoulders, of rich robes didst bare,
To furnish me, and dry'dst my wave wet haire.
The rest the night, we, and thy towre do know,
And that bright lamp, whose light did guid me through.
As soone that nights delights may numbred be,
As can the weeds of th' Hellespontick sea.
The leste the space, did for our loves remaine,
The more our care, it might not pa [...]e in vaine.
[Page 110]And now morns herald Luciser gan rise,
And fresh Aurora to unmaske the skies.
O how our hudled kisses walkt, and how
Waild we nights shortnesse, & wisht day more slow!
At length (harsh news) warnd by thy nurse, thy tower
I left, and hyed me to the uncouth shore.
Both parting, wept; I to the virgins sea
Went; whilst I might, still looking back on thee.
Trust me, me thinkes when I to thee do come,
I seem to swim, but shipwrackt going home.
Nay more, in all my tedious course to thee,
The way proves plaine, backward a cliffie sea.
Ill pleas'd returne I to my countrey still,
And mine owne home detaines me 'gainst my will.
Our soule, are linkt, why are our corps dis-joynd?
Why holds not both one land, since both one mind?
Thee let Abydos, Sestos me containe;
My land likes thee, thine pleases me againe.
Why am I vext when boyst'rous billowes move?
Cannot winds blow, but 'tmust my hindrance prove?
The crooked Dolphins know my love; not one
Small fish there swims, to whom I am unknowne.
By me a path is opened in the waves,
Like that which by a wheele, prest earth receives.
I once complaind of that my toyle, but now
That by the windes I am debard it so.
The Hellespont with frothy waves doth foame,
And ships are scarce safe in their harbour home.
Nor doe I thinke 'twas with more fury swayd,
When first 'twas christned by the drowned mayd.
Poore Helles losse hath stigmatiz'd its fame,
'Tmay well spare me, 'thath a sufficient name.
I envy Phryxus fate; who backt with ease,
A gold-fleec't Ram, and fasely past these seas.
[Page 111]But I, no sheeps help, nor a ships implore,
Were the streames such, that I might swim the shore.
No Art I'de crave, so swimming were but free,
My selfe the ship, pilot, and oares would bee.
Nor will I either Beare for guidance chose,
My love scornes all such common starres as those.
Others Andromads, the crowne of gold,
And the North gilding Parasis behold.
Yet neither Perseus, Iove's, nor Bacchus love,
In doubtfull way, I for my guides approve.
Another starre more sure than these, have I,
That markt, my love shall never saile awry.
That s [...]n, I soone could passe the Colchian shore,
Or utmost trackes of the Thessalian Oare.
Palaemons selfe I could out-swim by od,
Or him whom the strange hearb transformd a god.
Oft in this task my wearied armes do shrink,
And scarce are heav'd above the warers brinke.
But when I say, Cheere up, ye shall embrace
My Hero's neck, your toyles reward, and grace.
They straight recover strength, and forward tend
Like horse, that from Elean bounds we send.
Thus I my scorching flames reserve, and you
Faire heavenly mayd, with servent zeale pursue.
Well worthy heaven indeed, on earth yet stay:
Or draw me out unto the gods away.
Hence 'tis, that these so seldome I enjoy,
And hence that iroubled seas my minde annoy.
What though the sea's but small that parts us? since
As well that barres us, as one more immense.
As lief had I in th'utmost world remaine,
As thus to live, and love, and hope in vaine.
The nearer thee, slames ceise my heart more neare:
My hope's still great, though small effects appeare.
[Page 112]My hands ev'n touch my blisse, which oft-times I
Lament with teares, to misse, yet be so nie.
Like Tantall midst chin-kissing streames I stand,
And catch at dangling fruit, which mocks my hand.
And must I not enjoy thee, but when sea
Gives way? No winter see me blest with thee?
Since nought lesse firm, than winds & waves we find;
Must all my hopes, still rest on waves, and wind?
If thus in Summer, what will be the seas
When the Beare reignes, the Goat, the Pleiades?
I know not yet my boldnesse; but I feare,
Love then will force me to a desp'rate share.
And, lest thou thinke the time I promise vaine,
E're long I'le give a pledge shall make it plaine.
Let seas a whi [...]e their boystrous rage pursue.
E're long spite them, I'le force my passage through.
Or happy boldnesse shall my safetie prove,
Or death lend rest unto my anxious love.
If dead; I wish 'tmay be my luckier doome,
That my wrackt limbs unto thy shores may come.
I know thou'lt weep, embrace me too withall,
And say, thou wert sole authour of my fall.
Perhaps this Omen doth offend thine eare,
And in this part my lines unpleasing are.
Cease thy fond feare: that seas prove gentle, joyne
Thy fervent prayers, with zealous vowes of mine.
Small space will serve to waft me to thy shore;
Once there, let winter to the utmost [...]ore.
A fitting harbour for my keele lies there,
Nor can my barke ride safer any where.
Let Boreas keepe me, I shall love my stay,
Fearfull to stirre, and slow to goe away.
Nor rayle 'gainst deafer waves, nor yet laments
Seas are not pliant, to a swimmers bent.
[Page 113]Let winds detaine me and thy tender armes,
And may I be with-held with double charmes,
When stormes shall cease, I meane to trie my skill;
Be sure (my deare) thy light be ready still,
Meane time, for me, lodge these my lines with you,
Which heavens vouchsafe I nay with speed pursue.
THE ARGVMENT OF HERO'S Epistle to LEANDER.

HEro having received the Epistle of her amorous Le­ander, re-answers it with tearmes of mutuall affecti­on: desires his company, exclaimes against the seas, is zealous of his slay, rejects that conceit, tells him her dreame. And lastly, admonisheth him not to come, except in a peacefull and a gentle tide.

THe health thou send'st in words, that I indeed
May have (Leander) come thy selfe with speed.
All stayes are irksome that my joyes remove:
Pardon me pray, I doe not slightly love.
Our flames are equall, but farre short of thee
Am I in strength; mens sp'rits the ablest bee.
As maids limbs, so their minds, are weak and faint:
I dye, except thou come without rostraint.
You men, in various pastimes time may spend,
Your minds to tillage, or to hunting bend.
Sometimes i'th Court, now in the cirque againe,
Or with your nimble Coursers scoure the plaine.
Now birds with nets, now fish deceive with line,
Or wash away the tedious houres with wine.
Though lesse myflames, these sports I could not prove;
Nought rests for me to doe, but onely love.
[Page 115]And that I doe, and with more carnest might
Than thou'lt believe I can, my sole delight!
Or with my nurse I sit, and talke of thee,
And wonder what thy cause of stay should bee.
Or seeing winds to swell the justling tide,
In thine owne tearmes, the spitefull waves I chide.
Or when th'enraged seas more calme become,
I say thou mayst, but yet thou wilt not come.
Whilst thus I wail, salt tears do drowne mine eyes:
Which with her trembling hand my old nurse dries.
Oft search I if on shore thy steps appeare,
As though the sands could still th'impressions beare.
Oft I enquire, that I thy health may know,
Who from Abydos comes, or who doth goe.
What need I tell how oft I kissed o're
The cloathes thou lefts behinde thee on the shore?
Day past and nights more friendly houre drawn nye,
When glitting starres have spangled all the skye:
On my towres top a watchfull torch I place:
The signe that guides thee in thy wonted race.
Then slender threads, with thirled spindle weave;
And by that womanish art slow time deceave.
Ask'st what my talke in all this space may be?
My whole discourse is onely fram'd of thee.
Nurse, dost thou think my joy's come forth of dore?
Doe any watch him, and he feare the more?
Say, are his garments off? doth he annoynt
As yet with subtile oyle, each curious joynt?
When straight she nods; not that she minds my love,
But sleepe alas, her aged head doth move.
Then by and by alowd I cry, now, now,
He swims, and's armes doth midst the billowes throw.
And ere a thread or two I scarce have spun,
Fain would I know if halfe thy course were done.
[Page 116]Then looke I forth againe, and softly pray
That prosprous gales may give thee easie way.
Sometimes a voice we heare; and thinke all bee,
The noyses, that forerunne th'approach of thee.
Thus when the nights most it kesome space is past,
Slye sleepe invades my wearyed eyes at last.
Then, though unwilling here thou sleep'st with me;
Present, although thou would'st not present be.
Sometimes me thinks I see thee swimming nye,
Then that thine armes upon my shoulders lye.
Now for to cloath thy limbes with waves opprest;
Or hug thee, laid upon my warmer breast.
Much more beside, which I forbeare to tell;
I shame to speak't, though done they lik'd me well.
Oh! yet these joyes but transitory be!
For still with sleepe, thou fliest away from me.
Let us at length, our selves more firmely chaine,
And let our joyes be reall, and not vaine.
Why have I past so oft the widdowed night?
Why (slow) so long art absent from my sight?
'Tis true the seas are rough and boistrous now,
But yet last night farre gentler gales did blow.
Why letst that slip? why fear'dst not future doome?
Why lost so good a meanes, and thou not come?
Though straight thou mee [...]'st as fit a time to passe,
Ye [...] 'cause 'twas sooner, that the better was.
Seas fickle state is changed in an houre,
A willing hast will quickly waft thee o're,
Once here, thou shalt not need to grieve I trowe,
Lockt in mine armes, no stormes shall worke thy wo
Then I with joy should heare the winds and then
Wish seas might never more be calme againe.
But whence pray comes it, that the seas you feare
Now, which once scorned and contemned were?
[Page 117]For well I mind, when first to me you came,
The streame was neare as rough as is this same.
When I cry'd out, doe not so desperate be:
Least that thy courage be bewayld by me.
Whence springs this feare-where are thy bold thoughts fled?
Where he that not a thousand seas did dread?
Yet still be thus then desprate as before;
And stay till thou mayst safely reach the shore.
So thou't the same, and as thou writ'st dost love.
And so thy flames doe no cold embers prove.
Yet not so much the hindring winds I feare,
As least thy love like to the winds should erre.
Or east thou thinke thy danger passe the gaine;
Or me too small a purchase for thy paine.
Oft I my Country doubt: or least there be
Too great an ods betwixt thy selfe and me.
Yet could I well beare this, so thou incline
To no base love with any concubine.
So no strange armes thy softer necke enfold:
Nor new found love, prescribe an end to old.
First let me dye, then by such base wounds bleed:
And may my fate out-strip so foule a deed.
Not that thy selfe or any new sprung fame
Hath giv'n me cause of griefe I writ this same.
But cause I feare (who ere secure did love?)
The place the absent oft to feare doth move.
Thrice happy they who present doe enjoy,
And know their crimes; whom false ones not annoy.
As well forg'd crimes, as true, my minde doe strike:
Error, and feare, in me cause griefes alike.
Oh that thould'st come! or winds or father may
(No woman) be the cause of this thy stay.
Which should I heare my death from griefe would grow:
And much thou'lt sinne, if thou shouldst kill me so.
[Page 118]But thou wilt not; and all in vaine I feare,
Fierce winter is the cause thou com'st not here.
Ah! how the shores with batt'ring waves resound!
Dayes light within a watry cloud yes drownd.
Sure good Nephele, Helles losse deplores:
Whilst waves with her, do (breaking) weep in showrs.
Or else her stepdame plagues this noxious sea,
Lately transform'd a watry deitie.
This place befriends no mayds, for hence did grow
Poore H [...]lles death; and here I suffer too.
But Neptune, if thy former flames thou mind,
Me thinkes no love should be impeacht by wind.
If bright Amimone, and Tyro be
No lying fables of thy love, and thee
Halcyone, and Iphim [...]din faire,
Medusa, then without her snakie haire:
Laodice, Celaeno heaven re-inspheard;
And many more, whose names I oft have heard.
All these, and more, as Poets sing, would joyne
In am'or ous sports, their softer sides to thine.
Why then dost thou, who oft loves power didst trye,
Seas wonted passage through thy rage deny?
Cruell forbeare; and in the wide seas raigne!
Small is the streame that parts these lands in twain.
T'infest great ships were for thy state more meet;
Or fiercely to assault some mighty fleet,
What praise to thee can from a drownd youth rise?
Each pettie lake would scorne so poore a prize.
'Tis true he's high, and nobly borne, yet he
Descends from no Vlyssian progenie.
Cease then; save two in one: for though he swim
Alone; yet lyes my hope, my life, in him.
Meane while my taper (for by one I write)
Crackles, a signe some prosp'rous lucke should light.
[Page 119]Forthwith my nurse wine in the fire doth power:
Then drinks, and cryes next morn we shall be more.
Come through the seas and make us more by one,
Oh thou beloved of my heart alone!
Come to thy campe then that thy love dost flye:
In empty bed why doe I lovely lye?
Thou need'st not feare; love aids the bold essay:
The sea borne Goddesse will the seas allay.
Oft I my selfe could ev'n attempt the sea;
But that these waves mens friends not womens be.
Elle why when Phryxus first did passe the same,
Did H [...]lle onely give the flood a name?
Perhaps your strength for to returne you feare.
And that you scarce the double taske should beare.
In mid-sea then let us together meet:
And with sweet kisses there, each other greet.
That done turne backe againe, though this be small,
Yet is it better farre then nought at all.
Would God our bashfull shame, or tim'rous loue
Might yeeld to some, and knowne, and open prove.
Ill joyn'd (in us) is love with shame, 'twixt these
My choise I doubt; this seemely, that doth please.
As soone as Iason reacht the Colchian shore,
Away with him the Phasi [...]n Dame he bore.
No sooner Paris Lacedaemon eyes,
But he returnes, blest with his beauteous prize.
Oft as thou comst as oft thou leau'st thy love
Behind; and swimm'st, when ships can hardly move.
But yet thou victor of the seas, so care,
So scorne its rage, as scorning still to feare.
Oft well wrought vessells in the flood doe saile,
And think'st thine arms can past their oares prevail?
Where thou desir'st, stout seamen feare to tend:
In such attempts wrackt ships have found their end.
[Page 120]I would not yet perswade, what I advise:
And may thy courage, 'bove my counsels rise.
So thou in satetie come; and on my breast
At last, thy wave dividing armes dost rest.
Yet still as I convert mine eyes to seas,
A chilling cold my daunted heart doth seaze.
No lesse I me troubled with my dreame last night,
Though expiated since with sacred rite.
In dawne of day, my Taper almost out:
(A time whe dreames are most devoyd of doubt.)
From out my fingers fell my twisted thread,
And tow'rds my pillow I enclyn'd my head.
When straight, me thought I really did see
A Dol hin, swimming in the windy sea.
Whom, when the waves on soking sands had tost,
At once the wretch both life, and water lost.
Its meaning much I dread: scorne not my dreames:
Nor doe thou venter save in quiet streames.
If not thy selfe, at least yet pitty me:
Whose onely well fare is deriv' from thee.
There's hope e're long 'twill prove a peacefull tide;
Then thou the waves with earnest breast divide.
Meane time, cause seas doe hinder thee thy way,
Let these my lines, asswage thy lingring stay.
THE ARGVMENT OF Acontius his Epistle to Cydippe.

AContius hapning to be present at the sacrifice of Dia­na in Delos, to whose Temple many virgins did re­sort, amongst the rest espies (and was surprized with the love of) Cydippe, a damsell of noble parentage. But considering the disparitie of his birth, durst not adventure openly to wooe her. Wherefore on a faire and goodly apple he writes his de­vice, and subtilly entraps her in this rime:

By Dian's mysticke rites I vow to thee,
That I thy consort, and thy spouse will be.

The fruit he trolls unto her: Cydippe takes it up, and reads: and unawares bet othes her selfe unto him. For what vowes soever were made in the presence of Diana, were to be observed, and not revoked. Her father after this (ignorant of his daughters contract) promiseth her in marriage to ano­ther. Meane while Cydippe is taken with a violent Fea­ver. Acontius layes hold on the occasion; and labours to in­duce in her a beliefe, that this sicknesse was inflicted on her by Diana, for delaying to fulfill her promise. And sirives to render him, to whom her f [...]ther had affy'd her, od ous in her thoughts, by perswading her sh [...]e could by no meanes attaine her health, unlesse sh [...] utterly reject him.

FEare not; no more thou to thy love shalt sweare,
'T's enough for me, that you once promis'd were.
Peruse my lines; so from thy limbs may part
That paine, made mine, by thy induring smart.
Why blush you? (for I deeme a crimson staine
Now dyes your cheekes, as carst in Dians fane.)
[Page 122]Wedlocke, and plighted faith, no crimes, I move,
Nor as adultrer, but just spouse I love.
Call but to minde the words ingrav'd that stand
I' th'fruit, by me throwne to thy virgin-hand.
There thou shalt finde thy promise to my plea,
Except with words, thy faith forgotten be.
And that I fear'd, Dians incenst, yet thou,
And not the goddesse, should'st have mark't thy vow.
Nay, now the like I feare, but more; for loe
Through lingring stay, thy flames augmented grow.
So doth my love, which never yet was small,
Fed by the hopes thou gav'st, and time withall.
Thou gav'st me hope, my love gave faith to thee,
Thou canst not (Dian witnesse) this denie.
She present was, and noted every word,
And with mov'd tresse did her assent affoord.
So then, report thou wert by fraud betrayd;
Whil'st love, the cause of my deceit be sayd.
What drift had I, save to be joyn'd with thee?
This thou do'st blame, may our attonement bee.
Nor nature me, nor art, hath subtile made,
Trust me (fair soul) thou taughtst me first this trade.
If ought our art, ingenuous love, not I
Prevaild: and did the knot so firmly tie.
He the words prompted, I the charme did frame,
And crafty, through consulted love, became
Be I term'd subtile, and this deed beare stile
Of craft: if what we love, to winne, be guile.
Behold againe I send; intreaties write,
Complaine againe, here is another slight.
If what I love, I hurt, I shall so ever:
Thee I must seek, and seeking still persever.
Others by sword their fancied loves have sought,
And shall a witty letter be my fault?
[Page 123]Would god, more snares I could invent for thee,
That thy vow'd faith might on no side scape free.
There rests a thousand wayes, in one we wade:
My love shall suffer nothing unessayd.
Thou shalt be captiv'd, though thou now art free,
Gods know th'event, but thou shalt captiv'd be.
Though some, thou canst not all those nets evade,
Which love for thee, more than thou think'st, hath layd.
If arts will not avail, then arms wee'l move,
And to my longing bosome force thy love.
I not the fact of Paris reprehend,
Nor any such, who so have sought their end.
Nay I, (but I forbeare) though death ensues
Thy rape, wee'l meet it, 'fore I thee will loose.
Wer't thou lesse faire, I should more calmly sue,
Thy beauty makes me I thus boldly wooe.
Thou, and those eyes, to which bright stars appeare,
Like foyles, of these my flames first causers were:
Thy golden hairs, neck which pure white doth grace,
And armes, which oh! may once my limbs embrace
Thy gracefull lookes, not coy, yet blushing faire,
And feer, which may with Thetis selfe compare.
Blest, could I praise the rest; sure they agree
All, in a sweet proportion'd symmetrie.
No marvaile then, if by such forme constrain'd
I would of thee, a verball pledge have gain'd.
Whilst by our Art you say you captive are
Why doe you not the lawes of captiv'd be are
Il'e suffer envy, so I may obtaine,
Why should the fruit, from such a crime be tane?
His love Achilles forc't, his Telamon,
Yet they to love their ravishers were won.
Accuse me doe: be angry too, and coy,
So I may thee, though angry, but enjoy.
[Page 124]I that first caus'd it, will thy wrath allay,
If thou'st but give me ne're so little way:
Weeping before thy face let me a peare,
And at each word I speake, let fall a teare.
Like slaves that feare severer chastisement,
My hands unto thy feet for mercie bent.
Why am I absent blam'd? assume thy right;
Command me as a Mrs: plead in sight
Then though thou proudly teare my haire, or raze
In scornefull manner with thy nayles my face;
I'le suffer all, and onely fearfull stand
Lest my rude body hurt thy tender hand.
Thou need'st not chaines on me, or fettets try,
Thy love will me, stronger than fetters cie.
As thou shalt say (when once thy wrath is spent)
How firme is he in love? how patient?
And vow, when how I suffer, thou shalt see,
Who serves so well, sure shall my servant bee.
Why am I guilt esse, then condemn'd through hate,
My just cause lost, wanting an advocate?
The verse love bade me write, is all my blame,
Nor canst object ought else against my fame.
With me yet Delia ought not couzin'd be:
Keepe promise then with her, if not with me.
She saw thee when intrapt thou blush'st: was there,
And layd thy words up in her mindfull eare.
Forbid it heav'ns! yet there is none than she
More fierce gainst those that scorne her deitie.
Witnesse the Boare she sent, unknowne to none:
Althea no lesse cruell to her sonne.
Witnesse Actaeon, chang'd t'a Hart, and made
A prey for those, that earst on wild beasts Pray'd.
Proud Niobe, whose corps in marble pent,
In Migdon stands, a weeping monument.
[Page 125]Ah me! Cydippe I the truth restraine,
Lest in my cause, thou thinkst I idly faine.
Yet speake I must: this is it (trust me) why
At poynt of marriage thou thus sicke dost lye.
The goddesse seekes thy good, not perjurie.
And would, by saving of thy saith, save thee.
Hence 'tis, as oft you with your oath dispense,
That she as oft doth punish your offence.
Cease then, t'incense the sterne Virag [...]es ire;
Whose wrath if thou'st obey, will soone expire.
Preserve those tender limbs from Feavers free,
Oh spare that face, to be enjoy'd by me.
Spare, spare those lookes, made for our loves delight,
And cheekes inameld with pure red and white.
Who seekes our loves contracted to dis joyne,
May he, as I, for thy affliction pine.
I know not which my greatest crosse would prove,
To see thee sick, or made anothers love.
Sometimes I vex, and thinke I cause thy paine,
So that thou griefe dost through my craft sustaine.
And wish upon my head thy perjury
Might light, and thou from punishment be free.
Oft I with troubled thoughts about thy gare
Make needlesse walks, to understand thy state.
And foll'wing of thy man or mayd intreat
By stealth, to know how thou dost sleepe, or eate.
Woes me, I not the Doctors roome supply!
Nor fitting on thy bed, thy pulse doe try;
But more unhappy whilst I being hence,
He's there, whom I doe chiefly wish from thence.
He takes thee by the hand; and sets by thee
A hated person to the gods, and me.
Whilst on thy beating veine his thumbe he holds,
And by that meanes thy whiter armes infolds.
[Page 126]Thy breast oft touches, perhaps kisses too,
A blest reward, and farre beyond his due.
Pray who to reap our harvest gave thee leave?
Or shewd thee how thou mightst our hopes deceive?
Those breasts thou feel'st, kisses thou tak'st, are mine,
Wretch! from her body take those hands of thine.
Remove thy hands, she's mine; should'st do the same,
Henceforth, thoul't merit an adultrers name.
Chuse one whom none can claime, one that is free.
To tell you true, this onely is for me.
Believ'st me not? the contract heare, or let
Her read it, lest thou think it counterfeit.
Be gone: to thee this can no harbour lend;
What right canst thou t'anothers bed pretend?
Suppose thou promis'd wert she should be thine;
Yet is thy cause farr, farre, unlike to mine.
I by her selfe, byh'r sire you promis'd were.
But to her selfe, than father shee's more neere.
Her sire thee promis'd, but she swore to me:
He men attested, she a Deitle.
He but of word, she breach of oath doth feare,
Of these, think'st which the greatest sin will beare?
Last to discern't, to the event but looke,
Hee's well in health, she is with sicknesse strooke.
Then in our mindes unequall strifes we beare,
Nor is our hope alike, unlike our feare.
Indifferent thou: Repulse my death would prove:
In present I (what you perhaps may) love:
If care of equity, or right you weigh,
You needs must to my lawfull flames give way.
Since then thy love [...]njustly he doth sue,
What good Cydippe will my letter doe?
'Tis he thy paine, and Dians hate hath wrought,
Barre him thy house, if thou wilt wise be thought.
[Page 127]He did the hazard of thy life procure;
Would he that caus'd them might thy paines endure.
Him if thou leave, nor love whom Dian hates,
We both shall then enjoy our healthfull states.
Feare not, thou shalt enjoy thy health sweet mayd,
But conscious Dian must be first obayd.
Not in a sacrifice the gods delight:
But in a faith that is sincere, and right.
Some fire, and launcing, for their health sustaine,
And bitter potions take, to ease their paine.
Thou need'st not these, onely ahy oath observe,
And me, thy selfe, and pl [...]ghted faith preserve.
For thy past fault, thy ignorance may plead,
That to the written pledge thou took'st no heed.
Now thou art warn'd by me, and this event.
Which thou still suffer'st striving to prevent.
Say thou escape this sicknesse! thou'lt be made
In child-bed yet t'intreat Lucina's ayd.
When she shall heare, and ponder on thy pray'r,
Shee'l aske whose father to the child you beare.
Vow'st thou? shee knowes thy vowes are false. Wilt sweare?
In that she knows the gods abused are.
Not for my selfe (farre greater griefes I finde)
'Tis for thy life, cares thus perplex my mind.
Why doe thy parents mourne to see thee ill?
Whilst witlesse of the cause thou keep'st them still.
And why? go, make it to thy mother knowne:
Thou need'st not be asham'd of what thou'st done.
In order all explaine; first, how whilst you
To Dian offred, we acquainted grew.
Where (if you mark't) when thee I once did spy,
I on thy features fixt my stedfast eye.
And gazing thus (a note that love doth tell)
My loosned vesture from my shoulders fell.
[Page 128]Then how a rowling apple did appeare,
That words compact in subtile verse did beare.
Which since in Dians presence they were read,
Have bound thy faith not to be forfeited.
And that the meaning she may know more plaine,
As once thou didst, so read them now againe.
Then will she say, O marry him alone,
Whom heav'ns have joyn'd to thee; hee, he's my son.
Who e're since Dian's pleas'd, I am content,
Thus if a mother, will she give consent.
If who I am to know, she questions move,
Tell her I'me he the goddesse did approve.
Fam'd for Corycian Nymphs: Cea, an Ile
Which the Aegean seas from lands exile,
My countrey is: if bloud, or noble name
You weigh, from no base parentage I came.
We wealth possesse, and manners without crime,
And love, than which noght ampler speaks me thine.
And such a husband (if thou couldst have got)
Hadst thou not sworne, yet sure thou mightst have sought.
This sleeping Phoehe did to me indite,
This waking love commanded me to write.
As I already loves fierce darts have found,
Take heed least thee D [...]aua's arrowes wound.
Our safetie's joyn'd, pitty thy selfe, and me:
Why stick'st to both, at once an helpe to be?
Which if obtain'd: when the lowd signalls straine,
And votive blood shall Delian Altars staine.
The likenesse of that happy fruit I'le frame
In gold; and write these verses on the same.
By this, thus much Acontius intimates,
What here is writ, was ratifi'd by Fates.
Lest I too long, on thy weake patience dwell,
I bid thee (in my wonted stile) farewell.
THE ARGVMENT of CYDIPPE'S Epistle to ACONTIUS.

CYdippe having received Acontius Epistle, and by that meanes understanding,, that her flcknesse happe­ned unto her through Diana's wrath, conceived against her for not observing heroath; shee intend, (though against her parents will) to yeeld unto Acontius his desire, rather than endure a further torment: ond withall craves his as­sistance in the appeasing of the goadesses ire.

AFraid, I silent read thy lines, lest I
Again were forc't to sweare unwittingly,
And sure I had been once more ensnar'd; but thou
Confessest my engaged faith's enough.
Scaree had I read, save (had I stubborne beene)
I deem'd 'twould have increast the goddesse spleen [...]
Whats'ere I doe, or offer, yet still she
Is more propitious to thy cause, than me.
As thou hop'st faith; (then her owne Hippolite
To thee more kind) she vindicates thy right.
A mayd me thinkes should virgines yeares befriend;
Which now, I feare lest she too soone will [...]nd.
No outward Symptome shewes my griefe; and I
Wearied past helpe of any med'cinelye.
[Page 130]Thinke but how weake I am, when I scarce these
Can w [...]ite [...] or turne mee in my bed with ease.
Oft feare I, save my nurse, least any spie
Our letters enterchanging colloquie.
She (that I safe may write) the doores doth keepe,
And to my health enquirers, say's, I sleepe.
But when the time hath been too long delayd,
And sleepe no more can our excuse be made:
When one whom she must needs admit she spies,
She spits, or by some signe prevents surprize.
Then hastily I leave my words halfe fram'd,
My wary letter in my bosome cram'd.
Then straight I take them forth, and write, you see
How great a toyle thou art become to mee!
Which trust me thou but ill deserv'st: yet knowe,
My goodnesse, shall thy merits, farre outgoe.
For thee, through thy deceit, have I this paine
So oft endur'd; and doe as yet sustaine.
This gaine accrues my beauty through thy praise,
And now 'tis hurtfull that I once did please.
Would God as one deform'd thou me hadst feen!
Vselesse to me then physickes help had been.
Prais'd now I suffer; by your strifes betrayd,
And what was late my good, my hurt is made.
Whilst thoult be chiefe, nor he a second will,
Thou his desires, he thine, doth hinder stil.
My selfe like to a ship, which to the maine
The northwind drives, forc't back by tides againe.
When to my friends the longed day arrives,
In my parcht limbs excessive fervor strives.
And at the point of marriage oh my fare,
At my sad doores, death, and the suries waite.
Asham'd I feare (though I from guilt am free)
Least wrathfull Gods might be displeasd with me.
[Page 131]Some hold this accidentall, some mantaine
The heavens for me did not this man ordaine.
Others, that I (to set thee free from blame,)
By veneficious arts have caus'd the same.
The cause is hid, griefes open; you procure
Devoyd of peace sterne strifes; but I endure.
Ile tell thee now, slight not my plainer stile,
If thus thy love, how will thy envy spoile?
If what thou lov'st thou hurt'st, then love thy foe:
But wish my ruine, and preserve me so.
Or thou regard'st not her thou hop'st for thine,
Whom thou relentlesse, sufferst thus to pine:
Or if in vaine thou dost on Dian call,
Why braggest? with her thou hast no grace at all.
What s'ere thou talk'st, thou wilt not calme her yet,
Thou canst not doo't, thou me, she thee, doth slight.
Would ne're, (at least would it not then had been)
I Delos in Aegean seas had seen.
Ill launcht my vessell on the wayward sea,
Curst houre, in which our purpose found decree.
With what foot went I? with what ominous fare,
Did I unto my painted barque repaire?
Twice adverse winds did flat my swelling sayles,
Fond wretch I lie, those, those, were prosperous gales,
Faire prosprous gales, that did me backward force,
And sought to hinder my intended course,
And would they had persisted still the same!
But folly 'tis the wavering winds to blame.
Mov'd with its fame I Delos longd to view:
And deem'd my ship with lazy canvas flew.
How oft the sluggish oares I chid? the sayles
I thought too scant, to take in speeding gales.
Now Tenon, Micone, and Andron past,
White Delos cliffes appeard in sight at last.
[Page 132]Which seene farre off; why flyest thou me, I cry'd?
As earst, still float'st thou, on the wandring tide?
I land, and day now lent a dying gleame:
And Phoebus 'gan t'unyoke his purple teame.
Which, soon as call'd to the next mornes uprise,
To combe my l [...]ckes my carefull mother hies.
With rings my hands, my head with gold she trims;
And with rich vestures she adornes my limbes.
Then issuing forth to th'Island deities,
We wines, [...]nd od'rous incense sacrifice.
And whilst my mother doth the'Altars staine
With votive bloud; burns th'entrails of the slaine:
My busie nurse leads me another way.
And wondring, through the sacred place we stray.
We walkt the spacious Tarras, and there viewd
The gifts of Kings, and images that stood.
W'admir'd the horn-built Altar, and no lesse
The tree that helpt Latona in distresse.
And what besides (for I not all doe beare
In minde, nor list to tell) in Del [...] were
And here thou first behedst me, and from thence
Sought'st to be [...]uile my easie innocence.
Backe to Diana's high rais'd phane we w [...]n [...]:
Then that, what place could have more safetie lent?
Straight rowls a fruit that did these verses beare:
(Woes me, how neare was I againe to swear [...])
Which soon my nurse took up: lo here, she sed;
Where I thy craft, thou famous Poet read.
The name of marriage heard, with shame abasht,
My virgin cheekes with glowing blushes flasht.
Mine eyes fast fixt upon my bosome bent:
Mine eyes the ministe's of thy intent!
Bad man, why joy'st? what glory hast thou wone,
Or praise, that thus a virgin hast undone?
[Page 133]Arm'd with no Axe stood I, nor moon-like shields,
As Penthesilea in the Trojan fields.
No Belt imbost with Amazonian gold
Lost I, as did Hyppolita of old.
Why so exults thou of this slight? that I
Poore soule, am captiv'd by thy treachery?
As me, an apple did Atlanta ceaze,
Thou'rt now become a new Hippomenes.
Better'thad been thou hadst the boy obay'd,
Whom thou report'st with burning shafts arayd.
By honest meanes, not fraud, thy hope t'have sought,
I should have been intreated, and not caught.
Why didst not so professe thy love, so sue,
As we might ev'n have done the like to you?
Why us wouldst rather have enforc't than wonne,
If we might yeeld upon condition?
What now avails hy formal oath that I
Reading, for witnesse call'd a Deitie?
'Twas with my tongue I swore, not with my minde;
And that alone an oath can strictly binde.
The minde confirmes: all bonds do serve for nought,
Nor can availe, without consenting thought.
If e're to thee, my selfe I promised,
Then take the dues of thy betrothed bed.
But if what then I spake, my heart deny,
You but on uneffectuall words rely.
I swore nor, onely did the words repeat:
Thou must not be my Spouse at such a rate.
Cheat othe [...] a so; more oathes, more apples send,
If these availe, some misers riches rend.
Make Kings their Empires, and their Crowns resigne,
And cause whats'ere the world containes, be thine.
Trust mee, far greater you than Dian are,
If that thy words such ample power doe beare.
[Page 134]Yet when I thus have said, thus firme deny'd,
And have my breach of promise justify'd:
I must confesse I feare Diana's ire;
And deeme from thence, proceeds my scorching fire
Else, why as oft as Nuptialls are addrest,
Languish my limbs, with deadly paine opprest?
Thrice Hymens cheerefull noyse mine eares did greet,
Thrice he my threshold fled with nimble feer.
Scarce could he make his kindled taper blaze,
Which scarce, though shooke, a duskie flame would raise.
Oft precious sweets his rose crown'd haires bedew,
Oft cloathes himselfe in Roabes of saffron hue.
Approacht; when cryes, and dread of death he heares,
Things far from him, and hatefull to his cares:
From his sad front his curious garland teares,
And wipes the unguents from his liquid haires.
A sham'd midst sadnesse to rejoyce alone,
As in his cheekes, his garments die was showne.
Whilst feeble me my scorching feavers paine,
Scarce can my limbe my or'espread cloathes sustaine.
Whilst over me my grieved parents mourn,
And deaths dire brand for Hymens torch doth burne.
Oh spare thy patient quiver bearing mayd!
And lend thy health-restoring brothers ayd.
'Tis shame for thee, he deadly ills should cure,
And thou the title of my death endure.
Did ever I, unwarily mistooke,
Behold thee bathing in the shady brooke?
Were not thy altars still by me adorn'd;
Was e're thy mother, by my mother scorn'd?
Faulty in nothing but in this alone,
In an unluckie distich skillfull growne.
And thou Acontius (if you truely love)
Thy offrings bring my hurt my helpe may prove.
[Page 135]Oh why should she our plighted loves dis-joyn,
Who late seem'd angry cause I was not thine?
Whilst yet I live, thou well mayst hope: then why
Me doth she life, and thee thine hope deny?
Thinke not that hee to whom I am assyd;
Hath to my sickly limbs his 'hands apply'd.
True he sets by that's all he's favoured;
But still is mindfull of my virgin bed.
Nor do I know what [...]ughts of me he beares;
For oft his che [...]ke [...] he baths with falling teares.
Bashfully courts me, seldome takes a kisse;
And with a timerous voice he calls me his.
Nor mervaile I if he perceave my scorne:
Still when he comes; away from him I turne.
Speake not, with eyes shut, seeme to sleepe; and when
My hand he touches, pull it back agen.
He sighes, and mourns, and inly grieves to see,
With him I causlesse should offended be.
When thou more justly, since thou joy dost showe;
And pleasure tak'st in my revealed woe,
(Could I but use my tongue) my spite should'st bear;
And have my scorn, that thus hast wrought mysnare,
Thou writst that thou might'st come to see me here:
Far off thou art, yet hurt'st sufficient there.
Oft why thou wert Acontius nam'd I muse,
Thou hast a sting can wounds from far infuse,
Scarce am I yet recovered of the blow,
Which thy slye rime, did like a dart bestowe.
Why wouldst thou hither come? thou canst but see
(Thy double spoyle) awretched coarse of me.
My flesh consum'd, face of a bloodlesse hue.
Such as I once did in thy apple view.
No rosie red in pallid cheekes appeares,
Such forme, a new-wrought Marble statue beares.
[Page 136]Such is the silvers hue which oft we see
In banquets pale with chilling waters bee.
Should'st see me now, thou would'st denie'twere I,
And say this not deserves our art to trye.
Nay send me backe my plighted faith for feare.
And pray that Dian would forget it cleare.
Perhaps procure me to unsweare againe;
And wilt anew, contrary letter faine.
Yet ne'rethelesse would God (as thou dost sue)
Thou didst thy loves tormented limbs but view.
Though harder be thy breast then steele, yet sure
Thou wouldst a pardon for my fault procure.
And know to learne how we might this decline,
W'have sought the fate foretelling Delphieke shrine.
And he (I know not, but) as rumor saith,
Complaines of breach of a recorded faith.
This th'God, the prophet and my verse have said:
Thou seest thy vote doth want no verses ayd.
Whence comes this grace? unlesse some lines by thee
Late from'd, have caught the Gods, as well as mee.
Since then the Gods thou'st tane, I them insue;
And willing yield my conquered selfe thy due.
My heedlesse vow I to my mother shew'd,
Who much perplext with eyes dejected stood,
The rest care thou for: I have done I fea [...]e,
In writing thus, more then a maid should dare.
Enough my limbs are tyr'd with this my quill,
And my sicke hand no farther duty will.
What, (save my longing love with thee to dwell)
Rests there for me to write? but bid farewell.
THE ARGVMENT OF SAPPHO'S Epistle unto PHAO.

PHaon, a Lesbian youth, of an exquisite and admirable feature, had allured the eyes and hearts of most of the women in Mitylen: amongst which, none affected him with such a desperate love, as Sapho: a famous Poetresse, who lived about the time of Tarquinius Priscus, admired even by Plato himselfe, for her excellent numbers. Phao hapneth to sayle into Sicilie, at whose departure, the love­enrag'd Sappho becomes almost distract; deeming herselfe to be disdained by him: she resolves to cast herselfe from Leu­cate, a promontor [...]e of Epirus, into the sea, and so to extin­guish her hopelesse fl [...]mes. Yet before she did attempt it, she thought good to write unto him, and strives by all the means her wit could suggest unto her, to recall him back againe: she layes open her griefes, relates their former pleasures: and lastly, desires him if he be resolved to forsake his Sappho, at least by his cruell letter to make knowne his mind unto her.

SOone as thou saw'st my letter, didst thou know
If 'twere my right hands character, or no?
Or if the authours name thou hadst not seen,
Couldst not have told whence this short worke had been?
Perhaps thou'lt muse, why in this sadder verse
I write, since I in Lyricke aires converse.
[Page 138]My love is to be wept; no Barbit straines
Suit with my teares; but Elegies soft vaines.
Like to a field, whose dried corne on fire,
The East wind fannes, I burne with hot desire.
Typhaean Aetna now detaineth thee,
Yet grent as Aetna's flames remains with mee.
No verse that I to well disposed strings
May set (the work of care freed thoughts) there springs.
Nor Dryad's, nor Pyerian mayds, now me,
At all delight, nor once lov'd Lesbian fry.
Vile's Amython, vile Cydno too the white,
Vile Althis, once most gratefull in my sight.
And hundreds more with whom my sins are knowne:
Thou (wretch) of all partak'st the love alone.
Thou hast a face, and yeares too, fit for play:
Oh treacherous face that stol'st mine eyes away!
Take Harp, and Bow, and thou'lt Apollo bee,
Take hornes, and Bacchus will be like to thee.
Phoebus lov'd Daphne, Bacchus Gnossis too,
Yet neither she, nor she, sweet Lyricks knew.
But me the Muses smooth vain'd numbers teach,
And my name's sung farre as the world doth reach.
Nor winnes Alceus (fellow both of Lyre,
And countrey) more, though in his subject higher.
Though nature hath deny'd me beauty, yet,
My want of beauty I repay with wit.
I am but low, but my fam'd name, and skill,
Are tall, and doe the worlds vaste regions fill.
And though not faire; Andromeda, 'tis knowne,
Did please her Perseus, yet a tawny browne.
Oft Doves doe joyne with birds of diffrent hue,
And the gay Iay, doth the black Turtle wooe.
If (save thy like) thou thinkst none worthy thee;
None such (alas!) none such shall ever bee.
[Page 139]Yet when thou readst my lines, I then seem'd faire,
And none like me, became my words wouldst sweare.
And whilst I sung (we lovers all things mind:)
Thou on my lips didst am'rous kisses bind.
Both them, and each part else did please thee well:
But chiefly, when to loves choyce sports we fell.
My wantonnesse did much increase thy joy,
My nimble motion, and words apt for toy:
And that sweet languor in the which I lay,
When we had acted our delicious play.
Sicilian maids are now thy prey I see,
Lesbos adiew, Il'e be of Sicilie.
You Nisean dames; faire daughters that excell,
The wandring youth from out your bounds expell.
Nor let his lies beguile your faiths, my cares
Have oft heard that, which now to you he sweares.
And thou who celebrat'st Sican [...]an hills,
Bright Erycine, redresse thy Poets ills.
Will Fortune still be cruell, and hold on
In that harsh course to me she hath begun.
My tender youth had scarcely seen sixe yeares,
E're I my parents bones embalm'd with teares.
My needie brother with a strumpets love
O'recome, base losse, with baser shame doth prove.
Turn'd Pyrat, plowes with oares and sayls the maine,
And ill-lost goods as badly seekes againe.
Who, cause I blam'd the wretched course he runne,
Now hates me: this the thankes my freenesse wonne.
And least my woes might some appeasement finde,
My wanton daughter wounds with cares my minde.
Thou art, the last cause of my plaints, with gales
Contrarie still, m'unhappy vessell sailes.
Behold my once kemb'd tresses rudely plac'd,
Nor are, my fingers with bright Iewells grac'd.
[Page 140]My garments vile: no gold adornes my haires:
Nor doe my lockes smell of Arabian teares.
Whom should I strive to please, now in distresse,
Since he's away, who caus'd my neater dresse?
My tender breast each gentle dart doth wound,
And that I still love, still some cause is found.
The fatall Sisters sure at first decreed,
To spin my life forth with so crosse a thread.
Or else my studies doe the course maintaine;
And soft Thalia rules my love sick braine.
Nor marvell if a smooth-chind youth doth move
My heart; and yeares, that man in man might love.
Oft fear'd I lest Aurora thee should ceaze,
Who had; but that 'twould her first love displease.
Should Phoebe, that sees all things, thee but spy,
Phaön in long liv'd slumbers cast, should lye.
Venus to heaven had carried thee; but she
Nor without cause, fear'd Mars might dote on thee.
Oh! thou nor boy, nor yet full man, lifes prime!
Oh! thou sole grace, and glory of thy time,
Into my bosome come; 'las! I of thee
Love begge not, but that thou'lt be Iov'd by me.
Whilst thus I write, teares from my eye springs raine;
Do thou behold how they my letter staine.
If thou must needs have gone, yet't had been well
Hadst thou but sayd, deare Lesbian maid farewell.
But thou took'st with thee, nor my kisse, nor teare,
Little fear'd I the griefe that now I beare.
Save wrong, I nothing have of thine, nor move
(Thou weigh'st them not) the pledges of my love.
No charge I gave thee when thou wentst away,
Nor would; but such, Remember me, I pray.
By love, that never quits this breast of mine,
I sweare, and by the thrice-three maids divine,
[Page 141]That when they told me thou wert gone away,
Nor teares to shed, nor words I had to say.
Mine eyes were dry'd, tongue dumb (through cares di­straught,
And feares) my breast with chilling cold was fraught.
My griefes asswag'd, yet did I not forbeare
To beat my breast, and waile with scatt'red haire.
Much like some mother, (whom sad rage inspires)
That beares her child unto its funerall fires.
Charaxus pleasure takes in this my woe,
And jeering jets before me to and fro.
And (which more shame addes to my griefe, and me)
Askes why I weepe, thy daughter lives, saith he.
Ah! shame and love agree not: all the rout
View'd me with breasts torn bare; and throng'd about.
Thou, thou, my care art; thee my dreames display:
Dreames that make nights far brighter than the day.
There thee I meet, though thou farre hence remaine.
(But oh! these joyes are transitory vaine.)
Oft think I that thine armes my necke enclose,
And on thy shoulders that I mine impose.
I know thy tongue-kisse thou wert wont to give,
And with like pleasure from my lippes receive.
Sometimes I dally, words (as reall) speake;
And have my tongue still to my sence awake.
The rest I shame to speake, or write, though me
They pleas'd being done: who live not but with thee.
But when bright Ploebus shewes his ruddy rayes,
(With them all else) I curse my dreames short stayes.
Darke groves and caves I seeke, as if their fight
Could helpe me, conscious once of our delight▪
Thither distraught, like those Erictho beares
I run, with carelesse and disheveled haires.
The hanging vaults with T [...]phus cloth'd I see,
Which like Migdotian marble seeme to mee.
[Page 142]The wood I find, wherein we oft have made
Our hearby bed, whose leaves did lend us shade.
But there (of them, and me the Lord) thy face
I misse, thou wert the Dowrie of the place.
I knew the flowers, on which we oft did rest;
And grasse declining by our burthens prest.
I lay me downe, there where thy shape appeares;
But first the gratefull hearbs do drink my teares.
Each leavelesse bow a kinde of griefe retaines,
And no birds on them, vent their warbling straines:
Onely the Daulian bird, her woes to quaile,
Chants out sad notes: and Itys doth bewaile.
Itys the Bird, Sappho forsaken love,
Laments; whil'st all things else soft slumbers prove.
A purling spring there is, than glasse more cleare,
Sacred, some thinke a god inhabites there.
Ore which a watry Lotos boughs extends;
Alone a grove: coole turfes, the green earth lends.
Here as I lay, in brackish teares halfe drown'd;
A Naïd stands before me on the ground,
And thus began: Since fires unequall breed
Thy scorching paine, unto Ambracia speed.
There Phoebus from on high, the deep doth face:
Actaeum, some, Leucadia call the place,
Deucalion thence, enrag'd with Pyrrha's love,
Iumpt downe, & safe the under waves did prove.
Forthwith chang'd love, fled the detained breast
Of drencht Deucalion; and his fires surceast.
This place that vertue keepes, straight thither goe;
And feare not from the rock thy selfe to throw.
This sayd, it vanisht: I affrighted rose,
Whilst my pale face with flushing teares ore-flowes.
Faire Nymph I goe: nor will I slow appeare:
Farre from distracted love be abject feare.
[Page 143]Worst chance will better this; Aire underset
My prone descending corps, my load's not great.
And thou O Love, thy wings affoord! lest all
Should curse Leucadia's streams, through this my fall.
There, Phoebus, will I consecrate to thee
My Lyre, on which some such like verse shall bee.
Sappho to thee her Harp [...]ssignes (last care)
In which, with thee, she bore an equall share.
Ah! why shouldst wretched me to Actia send,
Since by thy comming thou my griefes mightst end!
More wholsome than those waters thou mayst be;
And for thy forme, Apollo unto me.
Canst thou then seas, and rockes, farre more obdure;
I dead, the title of my death endure.
Ah how much better wer't, my breast with thine
Should meet, than perish in the weltring brine?
That breast (oh Phaou!) which thou oft didst praise
For forme, and wit's divinely sparkling rayes.
Oh that my once fam'd Rhetorick mov'd my quil!
But 'l as! my wit now stoops to ev'ry ill.
My verse first pow'r now fruitlesse is become,
My speaking quill, and harp for griefe are dumbe.
You Lesbian matrons and you younger Quire,
You Lesbians, oft nam'd on Aeolian Lyre.
And you who caus'd my loves more shameful doom;
No more in numbers to my musicke come.
Phaön, hath all that did to please incline;
Wretch that I am, I'de almost call'd him mine.
Bring him, and then your Poet comes againe:
He dulls, and he revives my spritefull brain.
Do prayers prevaile? and his sterne mind orsway?
Or beare the winds my idle words away?
Oh! that the winds which mocke my words would swel
Thy sayles, a worke that would become thee well.
[Page 144]If thou intend'st returne, (for we prepare
Vow'd gifts for thee) with speed redresse my care.
Put forth: the wave-born Queen the seas will still;
And prosp'rous goles thy wisht-for sayles shall fill.
Cupid himselfe shall steere thy course nor faile
Nimbly to hoyse, and to take in each saile.
If from thy Sappho thou resolv'st to flye,
(In whom thou'lt finde no cause thereof doth lye)
At least let thy harsh letter send me word,
To end my life in the Lencadian foord.
FINIS.

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