Philochasander and Elanira the faire lady of Britaine Wherein is discouered the miserable passions of loue in exile, his vnspeakeable ioy receaued againe into fauour, with the deserued guerdon of perfit loue and constancie. By Henry Petowe.

Philochasander and Elanira the faire lady of Britaine Wherein is discouered the miserable passions of loue in exile, his vnspeakeable ioy receaued againe into fauour, with the deserued guerdon of perfit loue and constancie. By Henry Petowe.

Table of contents

Title page

To the vertuous and courteous young Gentleman, and his very friend Maister Iohn Cowper, H. P. wisheth increase of vertue and heauenly Happinesse.

Ad Inuidiam.

In laud'em Authoris.

To the quick-sighted Readers.

To the fayrest Elanira.

The pleasant Historie of Philochasander and Elanira.

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The pleasant Historie of Philochasander and Elanira.

SEauen tymes twise tould the bright Hyperian,

Hath circled the fierie Zodiacke,

Seauen times twise seauen, since darting loue began

Within those twise seuen dais my poore soules wrack,

Of an old hurt, yet feele the woūd but green,

Wounded by Loue, yet loue hath neuer seen.

In Cyprus springes, where Beautie faire once dwelt,

A well so hot that who so tasts the same,

Were hee of stone, as thawed Ice should melt:

And finde his brest kindled with burning flame.

Whose feruent heate my cold lymmes so opprest,

That fell dispaire doth lend me little rest.

An other well that springes so hot is found,

Whose chilling venome of repugnant kinde,

Drenches the burning heate of Cupids wound,

And with the spot of change infects the minde.

Whereof my deare hath tasted, to my paine,

My seruice thus is growen into disdaine.

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II.

FRom Tuskane came my Ladies worthy race,

Faire Florence was sometimes her auntient seate,

The westerne Ile whose pleasant shore doth face,

Wilde Cambers cliffes did giue her liuely heate.

Fostred she was with Milke of Irish brest,

And now in famous Britaine she doth rest.

Fortune bad Chaunce, the Author of my rewe,

Why did you suffer hoarie aged tyme,

To present such a Diamond to my viewe,

At whose first sight, my Sun-shine did decline:

Warres forren gallants wherefore did you slumber,

And carelesly let slip so rare a wonder.

Why did you sleepe, and did not gaze vpon her?

Why did so rare a prise escape your handes?

Why did not waking Centonels cease on her?

Whose sacred lookes all earth on earth commaunds.

Her faire of kinde, her vertues from aboue,

Happy is he that can obtayne her loue.

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III.

THe Sun hath twice brought forth his tēder green,

Twice clad the Earth in liuely lustinesse,

Once haue the windes the trees displayed clean:

And once againe begins their cruelnesse.

Since I haue hid the harme within my brest,

My Ladies coy disdaine that hinders rest.

The winters hurt recouers with the warme,

The parched greene restored is with shade,

What warmth alas may serue for to disarme,

The frozen heart that mine inflame hath made.

VVhat colde againe is able to restore,

My fresh greene yeares that wither more & more.

Strange kindes of death in life I trie,

At hand to melt farre of in flame to burne,

And like as time list to my cure applie,

So doth each place whole heapes of woes returne.

Loue seemes to haue my cure still in scorne,

VVho liuing die: and dying liue to morne.

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IIII.

MOst happie all but I; the sauadge wild,

The sencelesse beasts in field that pasture takes,

Nature will not permit them be beguild.

Of their true-harted loue affecting makes.

The poorest senceles creature on earth lyuing'

Enioyes what he loues most, and neuer grieuing.

The Hart he feedeth by the gentle Hynde,

The Bucke doth feede hard by the prettie Doue,

The Turtle Doue we neuer see vnkinde,

To him that to her doth affection show.

I proffer kindnes, yet tis not accepted,

I loue, yet loue of loue is quite reiected.

The harmeles Ewe she hath by her the Ram,

The younger Cowe hath to her make the Bull,

The Calfe with many a prettie nibling Lam:

Vppon the downes doe feede their hunger full.

But my Loue lou'd prizeth so hie her faire,

That for her want I cannot but despaire.

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V.

FVll faire and white she is, and White by na me,

Whose white doth striue the Lillies white to staine,

Who may contemne the blast of blacke defame,

Who in darke night can bring day bright againe.

Day is not day, vnles her shine giue light,

And when she frownes, day turnes to gloomy night.

The ruddie Rose impresseth with clere hewe,

In lippes and cheekes right orient to behould,

Her sparkling eies dart foorth to worldly view:

Such glimering splendant rayes, more bright thē gold.

Her lookes the still behoulders eyes amazes,

Dimming their sights, that on her Bewtie gazes.

Oh how my hart did burne at her first sight,

Oh how my rauisht soule did leape for ioy,

Day still did smile, t'was neuer ebon night,

No griefe, no woe, increased my anoy.

Vntill I gaue the on-set to the fort,

Then fell disdaine set period to my sport.

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VI.

FAire Penthesilea th'Amazonian Queene,

Whose man-like fórce foyled Achilles sonne,

And hung his sheild of Graecians to be seene,

VVithin Troy walles hath not such honour won.

By that hir admirable Princely deede,

As my loue hath, on whome all eyes doe feede.

Helen mongst Princes is accompted rare,

Phillis the Shepheards Doe commend for feature,

The Gods sweete Venus to be onely faire,

Yet she whome I loue is a fayrer creature.

Of all the beauties since the world begun,

Make one faire star, yet mine will be the Son.

From vtmost confines of the far wide world,

Came war-like Knights like bees to hiue in number

To gaze on her, deckt with Appollo's courld,

And dangling goulden locks, the worlds faire wonder.

Whose too bright lamps shining in Phaebus view,

VVithdrawes his rayes into a darker hewe.

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VII.

EAch morne when fresh Aurora gan to peepe,

And Phaebus rising from the Easterne clyme,

Shew'd foorth his radiant beames true course to kepe,

VVhome Zephire bids Boniour with calmie winde.

Foorth goes my Mistris for to take the aire,

Deem'd by the world sweet Bewties fayrest faire.

No sooner did my loue display her bewtie,

From foorth the glorious portall of her being,

But many states did hold it bounden dutie,

To offer seruice such a Goddesse seeing.

Then doe they striue in dutie to excell,

VVhose dutie grac't her bewtie wondrous well.

At her first gaze, like when Appollo's beames,

In the full glory of their Bewties shine,

Doe with the splendant rayes that frō heauē streames,

Illuminate the day: from her diuine.

Such lightning came, as all the earth thereby,

Was grac't as much as with the heauens brightie.

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VIII.

VVHen she was mounted on her Palfrayes backe,

VVhite as the whitest snowe winters beautie,

Her horse againe this Princesse must vnbacke,

Yt were a wonder to behold the dutie.

Those loue-sicke Knights that still attended on her,

How diligent they were to waite vpon her.

Then in a Chariot tryumphantly she rydes,

Attired all in Robes of perfite greene,

That dangling downe hung loose about her sides,

Like Lady Flora, Summers blessed Queene.

Two other Palfrayes swift as Venus doue,

Drawes this admired Goddesse Lady loue.

No sooner had her beautie grac't the fields,

But busie aire vp-heaues her yeilding robe:

Her nether garments likewise willing yeilds,

The couering Canopie of pleasures globe.

A globe wherein a man did neuer see,

Such pleasant fertill countries as there be.

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IX.

THe tyme when this sweet faire her progresse tooke,

Was whē fresh spring that bud & blome forth bring,

With greene had clad the hills, and euery brooke

VVith Christall glyding streames did sweetly spring,

The Nightingall with feathers new did sing,

Sommer was come for euery spray did spring.

The Bucke in bracke his Winter coate did cast,

The Turtle to her make hath tould her tale,

The Adder all her slough away did wast:

The Hart had hunge his olde head on the pale.

And thus I sawe amonge these pleasant things,

Each care decaies and yet my sorrowe springs.

Still side by side her Chariot did I run,

And like a Page attended with the rest,

But when I sawe the honour she had done,

To other Knights, and mine to be the least:

Oh how my heart within fraighted with ire,

A sparke scarce kindled, turn'd to flaming fier.

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X.

REuenge I sought vpon those harmeles Knights,

And needes I would giue scope to raging ire,

Our clamorous weapons fearefull Loue affrights:

To knowe my name the Lady doth desire.

Those forreine gentils knewe not what to say,

Some sayde I was Leander, some sayde nay.

But if that Beautie beauties worth may prayse,

And prayse himselfe, whom blackest hew doth scorne,

My Bewtie boue the rest my selfe might raise:

But that I leaue for after-worlds vnborne.

Then issu'd foorth a voice, some neighbor wight,

Philochasander doe wee call this Knight.

A warriour whom all Britaine doth admire,

A man at armes that dreades no martiall rage,

Disgrac't he would not be: for fell desire

Did egg him on: some others to asswage.

His new bred furie sought; but all in vaine,

In presence of his Lady foure Knights were slaine.

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XI.

THose starke dead Corps of those 4 worthy peres,

That breathles lay vpon the thirstie ground,

Was such a terror to her tender yeares,

That tymerous feare did cast her in a sound.

But when her sences were restor'd againe,

This was her guerdon for my taken paine.

From Bewties Court I must on Pilgrimage,

And neuer more behold her Maiestie,

But bannishment with such a goulden age,

As were my youthfull dayes; could not agree,

But though her doome exild me from her sight,

Aloofe I followed like a wandring Knight.

Foure dead I banisht yet a hundreth more,

Of gallant gentles did attend on her:

Well might fiue absent be, amongst fiue-score,

Where such a worthy troope did waite vpon her,

Exild I was, and Louers she had score,

Yet in despight of hate, she had one more.

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XII.

POore I which had two eyes, yet not one eye,

That durst attempt to lend my soule reliefe,

Reliefe to me in mid'st of miserie,

Least that the one eye caus'd the others griefe.

Two eies I had yet none to doe me good,

So much in feare of Bewtie, poore I stood.

Nere her I might not come, the more my woe,

The farther out of sight, the more her ioy,

Thus woe became my friend, and weale my foe,

My absence her content, my sight anoy.

Thus pilgrym like I ranged full of paine:

Hoping for rest, though captiue to disdaine.

But they that hope for fruite on barren land,

May lacke what they desire, and so did I,

I look't for fauour at a Princes hand,

Yet scarce durst view her sacred Maiestie:

For I was banisht, banisht from her sight,

That once gaue day vnto my soules darke night.

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XIII.

SOme men will thinke as due they ought to haue,

For their true seruice, guerdon and reward,

But I intreate, and loue for loue I craue:

Yet others though vnworthy are prefard.

I beate the bush, and others catch the bird,

Reason exclaimes and sweares my hap is hard.

They eate the honny, I must hold the hiue:

I sowe the seede, and they must reape the corne,

I wast, they win; I drawe, and they must driue,

Theirs is the thanke, and mine the bitter scorne.

I seeke, they speede: in vaine my winde is spent,

I gape, they get, I pray and yet am shent.

I fast, they feede: they drinke, and I still thurst,

They laugh, I weepe: they ioy, I euer mourne:

They gaine, I loose, I onely haue the worst:

They are whole, I am sicke: they cold, I burne.

I would, they may: I craue, they haue at will,

That helpeth them, but hate my hart doth kill.

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XIIII.

ADew desart, alas how art thou spent?

Ah droping teares, how wofully you wast,

Poore hart how many scalding sighes are lent

To pricke them forth, that make no speedy hast:

Ah payned soule, thou gap'st for mickell grace,

Of her in whome sweete pittie hath no place.

Vnhappy I, the fixed stonye rocke,

From place to place as soone I may remoue,

As by my heauy sorrowe to prouoke

A frozen hart from hate to perfite loue.

What should I say, alas such is my lot,

To fawne on womens faire, that make men dote?

For where I seeke to finde a resting port,

I doe but weigh against the wauering winde,

And where my troubled soule would faine resort,

There is no place for my abode assign'd.

My destinie I feare decreeth so,

That my true hart should cause my mickle woe.

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XV.

UUHen glorious Phaebus had the Serpent slaine,

The wanton God desired Cupids bow,

Which sudden strife did turne him to such paine,

That in the end he felt the depth of woe.

The shaft once shot, he neuer could remoue:

His woe began in seeking Daphnes loue.

This Cupid hath a shaft of perfit kinde,

Wherewith true-louing makes he gently woundeth.

Whose goulden head hath power ynough to binde,

All loyall harts; such force therein aboundeth.

An other shafte he hath, that's wrought in spight

Whose Nature is to quench all sweete delight

The owne in Phaebus tooke a resting place

In Daphnes Brest the cruell shaft did slumber,

Phaebus sought loue, Daphne would not imbrace

His vowed loue could neuer bring her vnder.

Such is my case? to her I seeke to most

I loue, she hates, thus is my labour lost.

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XVI.

AS oft as I behold my loue in Maiestie,

Her sparkling soueraigne bewtie that me bound,

The mores my comfort, though exild I be,

But yet alas the fresher is my wound.

My soule like Tantalus in sorrow wasteth,

Who sees the goulden fruite, yet neuer tasteth,

On like a careles Lady still she glides,

Woe worth those Palfrayes that befriend her so,

Woe worth the burnisht Charriot where she rides,

Alas alas they nill regard my woe.

Swift Spookes, strong Axeltree, burst all in sunder,

That I may feede vpon my soules rare wonder.

Yee gentle Coursers that so much obay,

Let not the goulden raines your proud heads tame,

Graze on some fertill soyle, that she may stay:

And meditate vpon an exiles name.

Looke what I wisht: good chance to cure my woūd,

Subuerted her rich pompe downe to the ground.

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XVII.

THere sits my loue like Ioue in heauens throne,

That mountaine like still standeth, so stands she,

Whose maiestie those knights doe gaze vpon,

Expecting from her bewtie some rich fee.

But this rare accident that Fortune wrought,

Twixt timerous feares & dread, my mistris brought.

As in a traunce she all amazed sate,

Faire Elanira, so my faire I name,

Who did disdaine blacke Venus for her mate,

Mate would she none but babling tell tale fame.

To blaze her Bewties excellence about,

Casting proude libells forren lands throughout.

No sooner were her Palfrayes put to graze,

And she reuiued that erst seemed dead:

But all the prettie birds on her to gaze.

Marching along, by Nightingalls were lead.

VVith sugred notes they proffer humble duety,

Carrolling sweete musicke to her bewtie.

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XVIII.

THose prettie birds did frame such melodie,

That Elanira fell into a slumber,

Her rauisht seruants drencht with harmonie,

Sad drowsie Morpheus were inthralled vnder.

Which when the birds perceau'd as they were ioying,

They hop and leap about, & fall to toying.

They thought poore sillie fooles, but thought amisse,

That she was Flora in her chiefest pride,

Therefore her currall lips, they chirping kisse,

Anon her dangling amber haire they'spied.

Thereon some play, and leap from haire to haire,

While others suck the breath of Bewties faire.

Then came vnruly Aire Zephirus blasts,

To gaze vpon this all admired Lady.

The wanton windes her nimble robes vpcasts,

About her corps: they were as quicke as may be.

To couer Bewties treasure, they nothing leaue,

Their yeilding garments bout her they vpheaue.

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XIX.

THen did the wanton birds flie all about,

Her pleasure pallaice viewing all her store,

Rownd rownd, they flutter in, and then flie out,

All that shee had they law, what could they more.

What mortall eie but I had such a sight,

Could deeme the field no bed, the day no night.

No eie but I, vnles the heauens bright eie,

And other senceles eies that nothing wit,

Beheld this blessed obiect: whereat I

Amazed stood, bereau'd of sence and wit.

Yet when I cald to minde what I had lost,

I drew nigh that which I desired most.

And when the sudden mist that dazled had,

Mine eyes at their first sight and sudden view,

Had cast his stemmy garment: oh so glad

Was I, that what I saw, for truth I knew.

Imagine gentle Louers how it grieu'd me,

I saw, yet could not haue, that should relieue me.

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XX.

UUHile thus I musing stood, swift feathered Time,

Came flying by, and tould me t'was mid-day,

Those slumbring Knights and Lady all diuine,

Slept on; the prettie birds tooke flight away.

Then nigh my Lady, nigh as nigh may be,

I did approch vnto her Maiestie.

I did againe what Zephir did vndoe,

I spred the couering silken Canopie,

I plac't her goulden tresses in a roe,

I had a care of her sweete Chastitie.

By this time drowsie slumber left her eyes,

(The curtaines drawne) my Lady gan to rise.

She saw t'was day, but when she saw me by,

She gan exclaime, but all her Knights were fast,

Then dreading naught I did approch more nie,

No dread at all, nor feare did me agast.

Then such a tale I sounded in her eare,

That are I [...]east, she bad me come more nere.

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XXI.

NO sooner had she sayd, but I was by,

Downe I must set, with honour she did grace me,

My tale halfe tould, she cast a wanton eye,

With luorie circling armes she did imbrace me.

Thrice welcome to thy friend thy Quondam foe,

(This sayd) she askt if I did loue or no?

Rauisht with ioy I made her this replie,

Worlds wonder, Heauens beautie, Loues comfort,

Was Hero lou'd, if lou'd, then so loue I,

I true Earbas not false Aenaeas consort,

Then welcome loue, if loue in thee haue place,

Receaue this touch, as guerdon from my grace.

What that I touch't her lippes, she likewise mine,

And what I gaue to her, she gaue to me,

Twise did I touch her beautie all diuine,

Nay then (quoth she) one more, I'le haue my fee.

A thousand moe to giue was my desire,

Such store of fuell loue cast on true-loues fire.

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XXII.

BY this the dreaming Knights began to wake,

The drowsie Iaylor bid them hast away,

Foorth of his slumbring Cell quick speed they make,

And hauing left their cabbins finde it day.

(Their former sence restor'd) on me they gazed.

To see me present they were much amazed.

Lordings why gaze and frowne you thus, quoth she,

Why disconted? not a word they say,

They cease to frowne, since 'twill no better be,

She bids them bring her Courser▪ they obay.

She being mounted, made her home returne,

Erst cold with feare, now fraight with ioy I burne.

Her shiuered Charriot was anewe repair'd,

Against her next dayes progresse as she bad:

What earth on earth to her might be compar'd,

Who of the choice of earth by Gods was made?

Faire Elanira fairest faire aliue,

To match whose faire all other faires did striue.

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XXIII.

HEro the faire so called for her beautie,

And yet not faire in Elanira's view,

The Gods themselues did proffer loue and dutie,

Vowing to change her earth-borne mortall hew.

And frame her all (diuine, but yet alas,

She sayd them nay, she would be as she was.

Hellen was faire, but not so faire as she,

Dido was faire and yet she wanted faire:

The [...] of Ioue were faire, for so thought he,

But none of these with her might nere compaire,

Hero, Hellen, Dido, all pale with White,

And when she shone, their glory turn'd to night,

On this dayes new borne light, I Page-like tended,

Casting my little lights on that bright Sunne,

Oh so mine eye-sight suddenly amended,

Receauing comfort from that blessed one.

I could but winke, such was her beauties force,

She lendeth smiles on me, mou'd with remorce.

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XXIIII.

UUIth prettie pleasant chat we spent the time,

Vntill the setting of this glorious Sunne,

At the faire portall of her rest diuine,

The Senses fiue sweete harmonie begun.

To welcome home faire bewtie with their sweet,

While other Virgins stoope to grace her feere.

There might I see, and seing might behold,

Her Princely edifice: whose entring gate

Did seeme to all in-goers beaten gold,

Such was the honour that did grace her state.

Entring therin all sorrow was bereauen,

For I supposd her pallaice blessed heauen.

The rich embowings of that mansion,

Were framed of the purest Iuorie,

The pillors gold which they did rest vpon,

For the sweete pleasure of her Maiestie.

The walles were couered all with siluer o're,

So rare a pallaice neuer seene before.

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XXV.

VPpon the siluer sealing of the same,

Were carued fierie beasts of sondry sorts,

That seemed to withstand all such as came,

And to that Princely mansion durst resort.

All things therein so curiously were placed,

As neuer mortall wight was better graced.

The pauement was of rich and precious stone,

Caru'd in such sort, as three times blessed hee,

Might so be honor'd as to treade thereon,

To haue accesse vnto her Maiestie.

Each part thereof did glister where we come,

As if it were the beautie of the Sunne.

The Sunne sayd I, alas how oft yet mist her,

(Like to a craftie Fox mong'st water fowles,)

Crept through het window & had thought to kist her,

No no, hie soaring Eagles scorne low stowles.

There is no sunne to glad the world but this,

Whom tender plants young youth do long to kisse.

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XXVI.

HEr gentle palme my warlike hand did grace,

And to a further roome conducted me,

Clasping my yeilding corps with sweet imbrace,

Vntill she shew'd me all her treasurie.

Yf words had bred content, then deeds would sauour,

Had Mars of scornfull Venus won such fauor.

Viewing her store-house I began to wonder,

Within this burnisht caskonet (quoth she)

Are pearles high priz'd: this other placed vnder,

Containes such Iems as man did neuer see.

This Iuorie box with Ruby stones is graced.

Within this other, Diamonds richly placed.

VVith that she takes me as she did before,

Philochasander worthy Knight she sayd,

Loe here a chest containing three times more,

Aske what thou wilt, thou shalt not be denayd.

All this is mine nay thine, and so much more▪

Yf thou wilt help my woes, take all my store.

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XXVII.

ALas my loue sayd I what bitter woe,

Presum'd to house within thy sacred brest?

The heauens will sure be venged on thy soe,

And nere permit that hellish soule to rest.

Phaebus will frowne and neuer lend him light,

But suffer him to pine in obscure night.

Ioue will send downe swift Mercurie from heauen,

And make a transformation of his hew:

The sences fiue will him of sence bereauen,

And bind him captiue to the pyning crew:

That wanting eares and eyes, to heare and see,

May pining liue, and die in miserie.

Ioues Ganimed that sweet and daintie boy,

Whose flowing Nectar cup impleat with sweet,

Shall like false Mynos with that traytor play,

And change Ambrosia to poyson meet.

Forcing him drinke a full carouse to death,

Who soone shall pledge him with his losse of breath.

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XXVIII.

YF heauen refuse to doe this blessed deed,

I will in person downe to night blacke hell,

And craue of faire Proserpina his meed:

That still he may be plagu'd with furies fell.

She is a woman therefore will be wonne,

Yf she consent, soone shall reuenge be done.

I'le bring with me from Hell to torture him,

The hatefull monster hag Tysiphone,

Vpon whose vgly loathsome carrion skin:

Feede hissing Snakes the Impes of crueltie.

That they may dangling hang vpon his haire.

That (frighted with the hissing) may dispaire.

Yf she denie to ayde my Loues distresse,

I'le to the Sea, and there I will complaine,

To louely Thetes she's not pittilesse,

That if the founder of thy woes remaine,

Vppon her siluer waues, rough seas shall rise,

And on his shipwrackt soule shall tyrannize.

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XXIX.

I'le Likewise to the Mother Earth deplore,

And all my harts deepe wounds to her make knowne,

That if the Traytor raunge vpon the shore,

Her crueltie vpon him shalbe showne.

Heauen, Earth, Sea, Hell, I'le woo thē with the Sun,

To make him tast of woe, that woe begun.

Say Elanira, speake my loue diuine,

Sweete soule (sayd I) why stand'st thou thus amazed,

Hart, Lyfe, and Soule, and all I haue is thine,

Like one affrighted still on me she gazed.

Vntill, as foorth of traunce she was remou'd,

Thus she began and tould me that she lou'd.

Kinde Knight, Lord all admired, my dearest friend,

Bewties Champion, the Prince of Chiualrie,

Thy forward minde, and valour I commend,

Ne make I doubt of thy true loyaltie.

Then in a word the founder of my woe,

Is a proude Brittaine Dame Silla my foe.

[Page]

XXX.

THis Dame (quoth she) a neighbring Castle by

Doth keepe, whose faire indeede I must confes,

Is too too faire grac'd with a wanton eye,

Whose beautie then my faire is nothing lesse,

Were she but dead, then should I neuer mone,

For with her death my heauie woes were done.

Pleaseth my loue? nay pree thee stay (quoth she)

I know thou't say, thou wilt performe the deed,

But be aduis'd, be slow in crueltie,

I wish her dead, yet would not haue her bleed,

May not this act some other way be done,

And force no blood: sayd I, let me alone.

But all this while the other loue-sicke Lords,

Were banquetting to passe the wearie tyme,

Loue to my loue, and me no cates affords,

Saue precious Nectar from pure loue diuine.

With that she wild me to a window come,

To shew me where this murther must be done.

[Page]

XXXI.

TAking my humble leaue as louers vse,

I bad farewell, the like she did returne.

I wisht her dread no ill, ne to refuse,

To oyle those out-worne Lamps that could not burn.

For want of her sweet comfort blessed sunne,

Vntill the scene of this first act were done.

She to the Knights, I to this Dame did goe,

With good intent, and not as Homicides,

With thirstie hands for bloud, ne like a foe,

That for a pray himselfe in ambush hides.

Though loue inforc'd me graunt what she desired,

My hart denied to act what she required.

When to the Portall of this stately Tower,

I did approch, (amazed at the sight)

I stood admiring, deaming it some bower,

Or Sommer mansion house of sweet delight.

Or else the residence of some demi-god,

Or some rich Court where loue made his abode.

[Page]

XXXII.

A Valiaunt man at armes, a warlike knight,

Clad in rich Armour of pure beaten gould,

Stands to encounter with each wandring wight,

Of courage fierce, to Combate wondrous bould,

(Dismounted of my Steed) I gan salute him;

And as a forren Knight, thus gan to greete him.

Courteous Lord, if thou be courteous,

To such as proffer naught but courtesie,

Graunt me accesse vnto the vertuous,

And all admired Queene of Chastitie.

Thy Lady and Mistres so she seemes to be,

Whose bewtie thou maintain'st by Chiualtie.

Yf by intreatie I may be so happie,

As to obtaine the graunt of my desire,

Freely to haue accesse vnto the Lady,

Whose grace and virtues all the world admires.

VVhat, doest thou frowne before my tale be ended?

Then doe thy worst, Iscorne to be befriended.

[Page]

XXXIII.

SParks let to burne, breake into fierie flames,

Flames not put out, consume what ere they tuch,

Tuch where it will, the fier nothing frames,

But burnes and spoyles all, were it twise as much.

My sword the fier, the spoyle his hart blood is,

Which I inforc'd the cold base earth to kisse.

Downe downe he fell, my force inforc'd him down,

Downe to the low layd bowels of the dust,

Dust to the dust I threw, with dust did frowne.

And frowning spoke his last, die die I must:

Must is for a Queene, therefore meete for mee,

For whose sweete sake I fram'd this Tragedie.

Leauing the liueles body on the ground,

Clad with the goulden brest-plate of my foe,

Secure I entred in whereas I found,

Faire Silla dauncing with a hundreth moe.

Well quallified Virgins all in white,

Whose glorious splendor made the rome more light.

[Page]

XXXIIII.

DArke grewe the place at my first gazing on them,

Darke as the gloomy day or sable night,

No sooner was I in, and look'd vpon them,

But Silla fled amazed at the sight:

The day growes darke when as it wants the Sun,

(The Princes fled) the Ladies sport was done.

I seeing this faire Ladie flie me fro,

As fearefull Dooes from hunters fierce pursuite

Who ouer-toyled can no further goe,

But in some brake lye close as dead and mute.

So did I chase this prettie Dooe so fur,

That (being faint) fell downe and could not stur.

Bout whom her Virgins fram'd a prettie fort,

Linking their Iuorie fingers one in one,

As did Diana's Nymphes in selfe same sort,

Lamenting her mishap with mickle mone.

Silla amazing star'd me in the face,

Admiring much how I came to that place.

[Page]

XXXV.

THe yeilding chained fort I brake in sunder,

And clasping Silla in my gentle armes,

I tooke her vp as forth a drowsie slumber,

Vowing to shield her from ensuing harmes.

Feare not (sayd I) sweet Lady feare no harmes,

Thy guard my sword shalbe, thy bed my armes.

Hereat dead Silla gan reuiue againe,

Recouering former sence these words she sayde,

Heauens warrior, Hell conqueror, Earthes captaine,

A thousand welcomes to a sillie maide.

More then a man thou art, lesse cannot be;

Thy valiaunt lookes fore-showes great Chiualrie.

Wert thou not hardie, thou had'st nere come here▪

But tell me gentle Knight, how scap'st thou death?

The Lord that kept me from thy sight sweet dere,

By dint of sword I sword his vitall breath.

Dead lye his corps in place where he was slaine,

Nere on my life will he reuiue againe.

[Page]

XXXVI.

YF then (quoth she) my guerdon thou doe deeme of,

Supplie that place of honour, and my loue:

Which small preferment if my Lord esteeme of,

My firme vow'd fauour neuer shall remoue.

Serue me but dayly, I am thine for euer,

What day forbids, at night we'le doe together.

I list not aske, ne doe I care to knowe,

The cause that mou'd thee to aduenture lyfe,

Vnles for fauour: tell me is it so,

Yf so? I yeild, to banish further strife.

Why doe I thus with words beguile the tyme,

And make not vse of him, that's wholy myne?

Come, come my loue, my hand would faine be doing,

Meet me halfe way▪ and then we be vnited,

The fort is wonne, thou need'st no other woing,

Giue me thy hart it shall be well requited.

Hart, hand and all what ere I haue is thine,

Yeild thou as much, and be thou likewise mine.

[Page]

XXXVII.

UUHy standest thou amazed worthy Knight,

Canst thou not loue, or doest thou scorne to loue?

Thou seest my pallaice fraighted with delight,

Whose endles pleasures neuer shall remoue.

Oh canst thou see a Lady weepe, that loues thee,

And cannot pittie to some pitie moue thee?

Be but my loue, and from Elizium,

I'le charme sweet Orphey for our more delight,

Who can inforce the beasts to daunce that's dum,

And likewise hould the fleeting birds from flight,

Who stayes swift riuers with his melodie,

And cause the trees pursue his harmonie.

Nay more I will to Paphos take my way,

Where sacred beautie hath her residence,

And charme her sences that sweet musicke play,

And force them waite vpon thy excellence,

What canst thou wish, that shall not be effected?

But yet I see my loue is quite reiected.

[Page]

XXXVIII.

I that gaue hearing to her wanton words,

When all her idle chat was well concluded:

My sad reply no comfort sweet affords,

Tis follie, with kind words to be delded;

I nought doe sing but death and miserie,

Faire Elanira wills, and you must die.

Oh short liu'd ioy (quoth she) and [...] be,

That I am thus betrayed of my foe:

O welcome death, strike, strike, I pardon thee,

And since I needs must die, let it be so.

I neuer wrong'd her sacred deitie,

That she should seeke my woefull tragedie.

My weeping eyes fraighted with liquid teares▪

To heare my siluer swan sing so by rote,

Oh how her lamentation duld myne eares,

How my poore hart in pities sea did flote.

To heare her young, (poore Virgins) waile & wepe,

How their discording plaints, no meane could keepe.

[Page]

XXXIX.

SIlla that prostrate laye at mercies feete,

I did vpheaue, and tooke her by the hand,

Whome, (after her sad passions) thus did greete,

Be rul'd by me, (quoth she) at your commaund.

Though contrarie to kinde; yet doe but this,

And on mine honour it will proue thy blisse.

To life, or death, do what you will (quoth she)

I condescend and long to heare my doome,

Then thus sayd I, you must transformed be,

And from a Lady, a worthy Knight become.

Yf this be all to further your desire,

I will foorthwith prouide me such attire.

Clad like two worthy Knights, we both together,

March to the pallaice of my Lady loue:

Next day with early Tytan we came thither,

Approching nigh, descending from aboue.

A loftie Tower, my loue cast downe such beames,

As not frō Phaebus throne more bright raies streames.

[Page]

XL.

I gazing on my loue, the Sunne that shone,

Casting sweet comfort on the low layd ground,

From of the top of loues sweet mansion,

Receau'd from loue a three times deeper wound.

Which loue perceauing to recure the same,

Descended from aboue and downe she came.

First we imbrace, and then to kissing fall,

From kisses to imbracements turne agaie,

Then gan I tell a fained tragicke tale,

How Silla and her Virgins all were slaine.

She rauisht seem'd to heare that tale of woe,

(Sylla by standing) and the tale not so.

Not Silla then but Florus I did name her,

Whome I presented to faire Elanire,

How pale the Lady look't but could I blame her,

Being a Princesse in a Knights attire.

Short tale to make, so much her friend I prou'd,

That in the Court she was intirely lou'd.

[Page]

XLI.

THree soules in one, in one close senceles Chamber,

Silla, my selfe and fairest Elanire,

VVhose glittering haire shone like the chased amber,

Of force to force immortall eyes admire.

VVithin that closet close which we were in,

A false discourse of murther I begin.

Faire glorie of honour beauteous Elanire,

Since for your loue I did aduenture life,

Vowing by holy oath nere to retire:

Vntill death ceas'd the instrument of strife,

Thy loue sweet loue's retourn'd with victorie,

Then graunt me guerdon for her tragedie.

Thy honours prize, (quoth she) shalbe my soule,

My endles loue, my store and all that's mine,

No Knight within my Court shall thee controule,

No mortall Prince shall check thee all diuine,

Diuine thou art because thou art my loue,

Selfe of my selfe, descended from aboue.

[Page]

XLII.

AS many weary steps, as loue hath gon,

So many kinde imbracements will I giue thee:

Thy sword shrill ecchoes, ten kisses sweet for one,

For one blow single, gentle loue beleiue me:

Promise is debt and debt shalbe repayde,

Receaue thy dewe to kisse be not affrayde.

Art thou asham'd, belike this knight in place,

(Speaking by Silla) hinders thy intent,

Tush man for loue tis lawfull to embrace:

To kisse and wanton where true loue is ment.

If kisses and imbracements will not serue thee,

We le find more daintie cates, I will not slaine thee.

As she did descant on these wanton theames,

Terrors alarums sounded in our eares,

Whereat we 'mazed, as a soule that dreames,

Frighted in sleepe with thousand sundry feares.

And as I thought a like replie to frame,

An hundred Knights into the chamber came.

[Page]

XLIII.

THe rumour which good truth did verifie,

Was, that a multitude of Quondam Louers,

Came for reueuge for Silla's tragedie:

Whose war-like troopes the grasse-greene medowe couers.

Short tale to make Silla against Silla fought,

Philochasanders pollicie so wrought.

A greater warriour Britaine neuer bred,

Before the battles ioyn'd, vnto the field,

Faire Elarina's troopes by him were led,

The skirmish done, his enemies gan yeild.

Some fled, some fearefull dyed, some others slaine,

Which honour vnto Silla did pertaine.

Silla supposed Florus, to whom the Knight,

Philochasander Prince of Chiualrie,

Did willing yeild the honour of the fight,

And made her famous in the Victorie.

(All things concluded, they two worne louers,)

Philochasander Silla then discouers.

[Page]

XLIIII.

GReat admiration bred this accident,

The vertuous loue of Silla to her foe,

That sought her death, yet euer permanent,

To honour her, that sought her ouerthrowe.

When Elanira on good Silla gazed,

Oh how the blushing Lady was amazed.

How many Dames affords this wilfull age?

How many Silla's is there to be found?

How many women can reuenge asswage

And burie mortall anger vnder ground?

As Silla did, for which as erst before,

Faire Elanira did her ioyes restore.

Philochasander, where is such another,

That can indure the sorrow he hath borne?

What man is he, to ayde his dearest brother,

VVill were loues weary yoke, as he hath worne?

Doe good to all, though you be tyranniz'd,

That boue the Spheare, your soules be cannoniz'd.

Omne simile non est Idem.

§

§

[Page]

Philochasander AND ELANIRA The faire Lady of Britaine.

Wherein is discouered the miserable passions of Loue in exile, his vnspeakeable Ioy receaued againe into fauour, with the deserued guerdon of perfit loue and Constancie.

Hurtfull to none, but pleasaunt and delightfull for all Estates to contemplate.

By Henry Petowe.

Dulcia non meruit qui non gustauit amara.

Printed by Thomas Purfoot.

1599.

To the vertuous and courteous young Gentleman, and his very friend Maister Iohn Cowper, H. P. wisheth increase of vertue and heauenly Happinesse.

[Page]

[Page]

SEeme you content, be discontent who list,

My chiefest studie is to please my frend,

Your liking scares the byting Satirist,

What foole dyslikes where vertue doth commend.

Vertues firme stay is resident in thee,

And I from vertue seeke Appologie.

Vouchsafe then thou admired to descend,

Downe from th'imperious rich skie threatning throne,

Of all subdewing vertue, (honours friend)

And grace the Roofe of my poore mansion.

Herein's contain'd the house of my goood will,

Like it and take it, so be Land-lord still.

Yf the foundation shrinking chance to faile,

And strongest posts the builder doe beguile,

Suppose it then the Cottage of a Snaile:

That tottering falls: so that her ruine smile.

Decay in such poore creatures breeds delight,

For their ambition sauors not of might.

Yours to his power humbly deuoted. Henry Petowe.

Ad Inuidiam.

[Page]

[Page]

SHame seeking Zoylists, is it not offence,

That Momus is the God of your deuotion?

To whome you consecrate all diligence,

In carping and contemning euery motion.

Shame ye not thus to seeke the shame of others?

Why seeke you shame? shame swiftly doth pursue you:

Yet enuie so your bashfull sences smothers,

That you shame not so much as they that view you.

Looke back, looke back and let this Poem passe,

That passeth not blinde byting Enuies terrour:

But learne to knowe abstaynance in this glasse,

And carpe not that which wanteth naught but errour.

Vaine are all actions of humanitie:

Then blame not fiction, 'tis but vanitie.

N. R. Gent.

In laud'em Authoris.

THe Lawrels greene wreath, Pallas doth propose,

To the Tryumphant Temples of all those,

Which by Appollo's inspiration,

Merit faire Daphnes transformation.

Then doth this Author, by all Poets Lawes,

Deserue that Fame with generall applause.

Henry Snelling Gentleman.

To the quick-sighted Readers.

[Page]

AS he that lately ransom'd from the snare,

Dreads still venture on the selfe-same gin,

So erst by folly led, not arm'd with care,

Seeke I to shun the pit I late was in,

The sinke of misconceite, and errors Cell,

Wherein my wandring Muse downehead-long fell.

(Rays'd by your fauours) she hath prunde her wings,

And now her second flight she gins to make,

Oh doe not hurt her, though she rudely springs,

For want of skill, but rather pleasure take.

To see an vnflidg'd fowle make shift to flie,

Whose vngrowne plumes all meanes for ayd deny.

Once she did ill, since when she liu'd obscure,

In blacke robes mu'd within an ebon herse,

No longer now she will her selfe, Immure,

But cancell her rude Epitaphe's harsh verse.

Blest may her second resurrection be,

And in your fauours liue eternallie.

Yours as opportunitie will permit. H. P.

To the fayrest Elanira.

[Page]

FAire glorie of Virtue, whose bright Angels forme.

(Fram'd of immortall powers all diuine,)

Banish the blacke Cloudes of a threatning stormes

Darting such splendant rayes from Bewties eyen.

Eyes casting light, like to the Lampes of heauen,

Whose eyes all eyes of sight hath quite bereauen.

Blinde I, whose I, can neuer be but blinde,

Unlesse the sun-shine of your sacred bewtie,

Inforce the curtaines of mine eyes, (assign'd

By loue) to ope' and doe their wonted dutie.

Then shine bright Sunne vpon my liquid soyle,

Drench'd with my teares in hazard of much spoyle.

How can that soyle (faire Sunne) but ruinate,

Whereon the Sunne will neuer cast his light?

Such is your Bewties force, when I contemplate,

That one kinde smile can brighten my darke night.

My harts sad woes, which force my soule to languish,

Such is my woes inexorable anguish.

Yf then one harmeles smile from beauties faire

Lend comfort to a thousand new bred woes.

Smile sacred Sainct to banish fell dispaire:

Dispaire that all sweet pleasure ouerthrowes.

My weale or woe at Beawties mercieis,

Frownes bred my sorrowes, smiles my endles blisse.

Philochasander.

Information about this book

Title statement

Philochasander and Elanira the faire lady of Britaine Wherein is discouered the miserable passions of loue in exile, his vnspeakeable ioy receaued againe into fauour, with the deserued guerdon of perfit loue and constancie. By Henry Petowe.

Petowe, Henry.

Edition statement

1599

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

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Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2003-07 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A09529

ID [STC]

STC 19808

ID [STC]

ESTC S110433

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

99845977

ID [PROQUEST]

99845977

ID [VID]

10910

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(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A09529)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 10910)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 550:07)

Source

— Philochasander and Elanira the faire lady of Britaine Wherein is discouered the miserable passions of loue in exile, his vnspeakeable ioy receaued againe into fauour, with the deserued guerdon of perfit loue and constancie. By Henry Petowe., Petowe, Henry..

Extent

[52] p.

Printed by Thomas Purfoot,. [London] :: 1599.. (In verse.) (Signatures: A-F⁴ G² .) (Reproduction of the original in the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery.)

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