Cynthia VVith certaine sonnets, and the legend of Cassandra.

Cynthia VVith certaine sonnets, and the legend of Cassandra.

Table of contents

Title page

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

To the curteous Gentlemen Readers.

T. T. in commend ation ofthe Authour his worke.

To his Miſtreſſe.

CYNTHIA.

SONNET. I.

SONNET. II.

SONNET. III.

SONNET. IIII.

SONNET. V.

SONNET. VI.

SONNET. VII.

SONNET. VIII.

SONNET. IX.

SONNET. X.

SONNET. XI.

SONNET. XII.

SONNET. XIII.

SONNET. XIIII.

SONNET. XV.

SONNET. XVI.

SONNET. XVII.

SONNET. XVIII.

SONNET. XIX.

SONNET. XX.

AN ODE.

CASSANDRA.

§

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[Page] Cynthia. VVITH CERtaine Sonnets, and the Legend of Caſſandra.

Quod cupio nequeo.

At London, Printed for Humfrey Lownes, and are to bee ſold at the VVeſt doore of Paules. 1595.

[Page] To the Right Honorable, and moſt noble-minded Lorde, VVilliam Stanley, Earle of Darby, &c.

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

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

Richard Barnefeilde.

To the curteous Gentlemen Readers.

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

One name there is, which name aboue all other

I moſt eſteeme, as time and place ſhall proue:

The one is Veſta, th other Cupids Mother,

The firſt my Goddeſſe is, the laſt my loue;

Subiect to Both I am: to that by berth;

To this for beautie; faireſt on the earth.

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

Richard Barnefeild.

T. T. in commend ation ofthe Authour his worke.

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VVHylom that in a ſhepheards gray coate masked,

(Where masked loue the nonage of his skill)

Reares now his Eagle-winged pen, new tasked,

To ſeale the by-Clift Muſe ſole-pleaſing hill:

Dropping ſweete Nectar poeſie from his quill,

Admires faire CYNTHIA with his iuory pen

Faire CYNTHIA lou'd, fear'd, of Gods and men.

Downe ſliding from that cloudes ore-pearing mounteine:

Decking with double grace the neighbour plaines,

Drawes chriſtall dew, from PEGASE foote-ſprung fountain,

Whoſe flower ſet banks, delights, ſweet choice containes:

Nere yet diſcouerd to the country ſwaines:

Heere bud thoſe branches, which adorne his turtle,

With loue made garlands, of heart-bleeding Mirtle.

Rays'd from the cynders, of the thrice-fact towne▪

ILLIONS ſooth-telling SYBILLIST appeares,

Eclipſing PHOEBVS loue, with fcornefull frowne,

Whoſe tragicke end, affords warme-water teares,

(For pitty-wanting PACOE, none for beares,

Such period haps, to beauties price ore-priz'd:

Where IANVS-faced loue, doth larke diſguiz'd.

Nere waining CYNTHIA yeelds thee triple thankes,

Whoſe beames vnborrowed darke the worlds faire eie,

And as full ſtreames that euer fill their bankes,

So thoſe rare Sonnets, where wits ripe doth lie,

With Troian Nimph, doe ſoare thy fame to skie.

And thoſe, and theſe, contend thy Muſe to raiſe

(Larke mounting Muſe) with more then common praiſe.

To his Miſtreſſe.

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BRight Starre of Beauty, faireſt Faire aliue,

Rare preſident of peereleſſe chaſtiry;

(In whom the Muſes and the Graces ſtriue,

VVhich ſhall poſſeſſe the chiefeſt part of thee:)

Oh let theſe ſimple lines accepted bee:

VVhich here I offer at thy ſacred ſhrine:

Sacred, becauſe ſweete Beauty is diuine.

And though I cannot pleaſe each curious care,

With ſugred Noates of heauenly Harmonie:

Yet if my loue ſhall to thy ſelfe appeare,

No other Muſe I will inuoke but thee:

And if thou wilt my faire Thalia be,

He ſing ſweet Hymnes and praiſes to thy name,

In that cleāre Temple of eternall Fame.

But ah (alas) how can mine infant Muſe

(That neuer heard of Helicon before)

Performe my promiſe paſt: when they refuſe

Poore Shepheards Plaints? yet will I ſtill adore

Thy ſacred Name, although I write no more:

Yet hope I ſhall, if this accepted bee:

If not, in ſilence ſleepe eternally.

CYNTHIA.

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NOW was the Welkyn all inuelloped

With duskie Mantle of the ſable Night:

And CYNTHIA lifting vp her drouping head,

Bluſht at the Beautie of her borrowed light,

When Sleepe now ſummon'd euery mortal wight.

Then the (me thought) I ſaw or ſeem'd to ſee,

An heauenly Creature like an Angell bright,

That in great haſte come pacing towards me:

Was neuer mortall eye beheld ſo faire a Shee.

Thou lazie man (quoth ſhe) what mak'ſt thou heere

(Luld in the lap of Honours Enimie?)

I heere commaund thee now for to appeare

(By vertue of loves mickle Maieſtle)

In yonder Wood▪ (VVhich with her finger ſhee

Out-poyſiting) had no ſooner turn'd her face,

And leauing mee to muze what ſhe ſhould bee,

Yuaniſhed into ſome other place:

But ſtraite (me thought) I ſaw a rout of heauenlie (Race.

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Downe in a Dale, hard by a Forreſt ſide,

(Vnder the ſhaddow of a loftie Pine,)

Not far from whence a trickling ſtreame did glide,

Did nature by her ſecret art combine,

A pleaſant Arbour, of a ſpreading Vine:

Wherein Art ſtroue with nature to compaire,

That made it rather ſeeme a thing diuine,

Being ſcituate all in the open Aire:

A fairer nere was ſeene, if any ſeene ſo faire.

There might one ſee, and yet not ſee (indeede)

Freſh Flora flouriſhing in chiefeſt Prime,

Arrayed all in gay and gorgeous weede,

The Primroſe and ſweet-ſmelling Eglantine,

As fitted beſt beguiling ſo the time:

And euer as ſhe went ſhe ſtrewd the place,

Red-roſes mixt with Daffadillies fine,

For Gods and Goddeſſes, that in like caſe

In this ſame order ſat, with il-beſeeming grace.

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Firſt, in a royall Chaire of maſſie gold,

(Bard all about with plates of burning ſteele)

Sat Iupiter moſt glorious to behold,

And in his hand was placed Fortunes wheele:

The which he often turn'd, and oft did reele.

And next to him, in griefe and gealouzie,

(If fight may cenſure what the heart doth feele)

In ſad lament was placed Mercurie;

That dying ſeem'd to weep, & weeping ſeem'd to die.

On th' other ſide, aboue the other twaine,

(Delighting as it ſeem'd to ſit alone)

Sat Mulciber; in pride and high diſdaine,

Mounted on high vpon a ſtately throne,

And euen with that I heard a deadly grone:

Muzing at this, & ſuch an vncouth ſight, (mone)

(Not knowing what ſhoulde make that piteous

I ſaw three furies, all in Armour dight,

With euery one a Lampe, and euery one a light.

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I deemed ſo; nor was I much deceau'd,

For poured forth in ſenſuall Delight,

There might I ſee of Sences quite bereau'd

King Priams Sonne, that Alexander hight,

(Wrapt in the Mantle of eternall Night.)

And vnder him, awaiting for his fall,

Sate Shame, here Death, & there ſat fel Deſpight,

That with their Horrour did his heart appall:

Thus was his Bliſſe to Bale, his Hony turn'd to gall.

In which delight feeding mine hungry eye,

Of two great Goddeſſes a ſight I had,

And after them in wondrous Iollity,

(As one that inly ioy'd, ſo was ſhe glad)

The Queene of Loue full royallie yclad,

In gliſtring Golde, and peereleſſe precious ſtone,

There might I ſpie: and her Companion bad,

Proud Paris, Nephew to Laomedon,

That afterward did cauſe the Death of many a one.

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By this the formoſt melting all in teares,

And rayning downe reſolued Pearls in ſhowers,

Gan to approach the place of heauenly Pheares,

And with her weeping, watring all their Bowers,

Throwing ſweet Odors on thoſe fading flowers,

At length, ſhe them beſpake thus mournfullie.

High Ioue (quoth ſhe) and yee Coeleſtiall powers,

That here in Iudgement ſit twixt her and mee,

Now liſten (for a while) and iudge with equitie.

Sporting our ſelues to day, as wee were woont,

(I meane, I, Pallas, and the Queene of Loue,)

Intending with Diana for to hunt,

On Ida Mountaine top our skill to proue,

A golden Ball was trindled from aboue,

And on the Rinde was writ this Poeſie,

PVLCHERIMae for which a while we ſtroue,

Each ſaying ſhee was faireſt of the three,

VVhen loe a ſhepheards Swaine not far away we ſee.

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I ſpi'd him firſt, and ſpying thus beſpake,

Shall yonder Swaine vnfolde the myſterie?

Agree'd (quoth Venus,) and by Stygian Lake,

To whom he giues the ball ſo ſhall it bee:

Nor from his cenſure will I flie, quoth ſhee,

(Poynting to Pallas (though I looſe the gole.

Thus euery one yplac'd in her degree,

The Shepheard comes, whoſe partial eies gan role,

And on our beuties look't, and of our beuties ſtole.

I promis'd wealth, Minerua promis'd wit,

(Shee promis'd wit to him that was vnwiſe,)

But he (fond foole) had ſoone refuſed it,

And minding to beſtow that glorious Prize,

On Venus, that with pleaſure might ſuffize

His greedie minde in looſe laciuiouſnes:

Vpon a ſudden, wanting good aduice,)

Holde here (quoth he) this golden Ball poſſeſſe,

Which Paris giues to thee for meede of worthines,

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Thus haue I ſhew'd the ſumme of all my ſute,

And as a Plaintiffe heere appeale to thee,

And to the reſt. Whoſe folly I impute

To filthie luſt, and partialitie,

That made him iudge amiſſe: and ſo doe we

(Quoth Pallas, Venus) nor will I gaine-ſay,

Although it's mine by right, yet willinglie,

I heere diſclaime my title and obey:

When ſilence being made, Ioue thus began to ſaie.

Thou Venus, art my darling, thou my deare,

(Minerua,) ſhee, my ſiſter and my wife:

So that of all a due reſpect I beare,

Aſſign'd as one to end this doubtfull ſtrife, (life)

(Touching your forme, your fame, your loue, your

Beauty is vaine much like a gloomy light,

And wanting wit is counted but a trife,

Eſpecially when Honour's put to flight:

Thus of a louely, ſoone becomes a loathly ſight.

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VVit without wealth is bad, yet counted good,

wealth wanting wiſdom's worſe, yet deem'd as wel,

From whence (for ay) doth flow, as from a flood,

A pleaſant Poyſon▪ and a heauenly Hell,

where mortall men doe couer ſtill to dwell.

Yet one there is to Vertue ſo inclin'd,

That as for Maieſty ſhe beares the Bell,

So in the truth who tries her princelie minde,

Both Wiſdom, Beauty, Wealth, & all in her ſhal find.

In Weſterne world amids the Ocean maine,

In coumpleat Vertue ſhining like the Sunne,

In great Renowne a maiden Queene doth raigne,

Whoſe roy all Race, in Ruine firſt begun,

Till Heauens bright Lamps diſſolue ſhall nere bee done:

In whoſe faire eies Loue linckt with vertues been,

In euerlaſting Peace and Vnion.

Which ſweet Conſort in her full well beſeeme

Of Bounty, and of Beauty faireſt Fayrie Queene.

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And to conclude, the gifts in her yfound,

Are all ſo noble, royall, and ſo rare,

That more and more in her they doe abound;

In her moſt peereleſſe Prince without compare,

Endowing ſtill her minde with vertuous care:

That through the world (ſo wide) the flying fame,

(And Name that Enuies ſelfe cannot impaire,)

Is blown of this faire Queen, this gorgeous dame,

Fame borowing al mēs mouths to royalize the ſame.

And with this ſentence Iupiter did end,

This is the Pricke (quoth he) this is the praies,

To whom, this as a Preſent I will ſend,

That ſhameth Cynthia in her ſiluer Raies,

If ſo you three this deed doe not diſpleaſe.

Then one, and all, and euery one of them,

To her that is the honour of her daies,

A ſecond Iudith in IERVSALEM.

To her we ſend this Pearle, this Iewell, and this Iem.

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Then call'd he vp the winged Mercury,

(The mighty Meſſenger of Gods enrold,)

And bad him hither haſtily to hie,

Whō tended by her Nymphes he ſhould behold,

Like Pearles ycouched all in ſhining gold.)

And euen with that, frō pleaſant ſlumbring ſleepe▪

(Deſiring much theſe wonders to vnfold)

I wak'ning, when Aurora gan to peepe,

Depriu'd ſo ſoone of my ſweet Dreame, gan almoſt weepe.

The Concluſion.

THus, ſacred Virgin, Muſe of chaſtitie,

This difference is betwixt the Moone and thee:

Shee ſhines by Night; but thou by Day do'ſt ſhine:

Shee Monthly changeth▪ thou do ſt nere decline:

And as the Sunne, to her, doth lend his light,

So hee, by thee, is onely made ſo bright:

Yet neither Sun, nor Moone, thou canſt be named,

Becauſe thy light hath both their beauties ſhamed:

Then, ſince an heauenly Name doth thee befall,

Thou VIRGO art: (if any Signe at all.

FINIS.

SONNET. I.

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Sporting at fancie, ſetting light by loue,

There came a theefe and ſtole away my heart,

(And therefore robd me of my chiefeſt part)

Yet cannot Reaſon him a felon proue.

For why his beauty (my hearts thiefe) affirmeth,

Piercing no skin (the bodies fenſiue wall)

And hauing leaue, and free conſent withall,

Himſelfe not guilty, whom loue guilty tearmeth,

Conſcienee the ludge, twelue Reaſons are the Iurie,

They ſinde mine eies his beutie t'haue let in,

And on this verdict giuen, agreed they bin,

VVherefore, becauſe his beauty did allure yee,

Your Doome is this: in teares ſtill to be drowned,

VVhen his faire forchead with diſdain is frowned.

SONNET. II.

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Beuty and Maieſty are falne at ods,

Th'one claimes his checke, the other claimes his chin;

Then Vertue comes, and puts her title in.

(Quoth ſhe) I make him like th'immortall Gods.

(Quoth Maieſtie) I owne his lookes, his Brow,

His lips, (quoth Loue) his eies, his faire is mine.

And yet (quoth Maieſty) he is not thine,

I mixe Diſdaine with Loues congealed Snow.

I, but (quoth Loue) his lockes are mine (by right)

His ſtately gate is mine (quoth Maieſtie,)

And mine (quoth Vertue) is his Modeſtie.

Thus as they ſtriue about this heauenly wight,

Atlaſt the other two to Vertue yeeld,

The liſts of Loue, fought in faire Beauties field.

SONNET. III.

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The Stoicks thinke, (and they come neere the truth,)

That vertue is the chiefeſt good of all,

The Academicks on Idea call.

The Epicures in pleaſure ſpend their youth,

The Perrepatetickes iudge felicitie,

To be the chiefeſt good aboue all other,

One man, thinks this: & that conceaues another:

So that in one thing very few agree.

Let Stoicks haue their Vertue if they will,

And all the reſt their chiefe▪ſuppoſed good,

Let cruell Martialiſts delight in blood,

And Myſers ioy their bags with gold to fill:

My chiefeſt good, my chiefe felicity,

Is to be gazing on my loues faire eie▪

SONNET. IIII.

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Two ſtars there are in one faire firmament,

(Of ſome intitled Ganymedes ſweet face)

VVhich other ſtars in brightnes doe diſgrace,

As much as Po in clearenes paſſeth Trent.

Nor are they common natur'd ſtars▪ for why,

Theſe ſtars whē other ſhine vaile their pure light,

And when all other vaniſh out of ſight,

They adde a glory to the worlds great eie,

By theſe two ſtars my life is onely led,

In them I place my ioy, in them my pleaſure,

Loues piercing Darts, & Natures precious treaſure

VVith their ſweet foode my fainting ſoule is fed:

Then when my ſunne is abſent from my ſight

How can it chuſe (with me) but be darke night?

SONNET. V.

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It is reported of faire Thetis Sonne,

(Achilles famous for his chiualry,

His noble minde and magnanimity,)

That when the Troian wars were new begun,

VVhos'euer was deepe-wounded with his ſpeare,

Could neuer be▪recured of his maime,

Nor euer after be made whole againe:

Except with that ſpeares ruſt he holpen were.

Euen ſo it fareth with my fortune now,

VVho being wounded with his piercing eie,

Muſt either thereby finde a remedy,

Or els to be releeu'd I know not how.

Then if thou haſt a minde ſtil to annoy me,

Kill me with kiſſes, if thou wilt deſtroy me.

SONNET. VI.

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Sweet Corrall lips, where Natures treaſure lies,

The balme of bliſſe, the ſoueraigue ſalue of ſorrow

The ſecret touch of loues heart-burning arrow,

Come quench my thirſt or els poore Daphne dies.

One night I dream'd (alas twas but a Dreame)

That I did feele the ſweetnes of the ſame▪

Where-with inſpir'd, I young againe became,

And from my heart a ſpring of blood did ſtreame,

But when I wak'e, I found it nothing ſo,

Saue that my limbs (me thought) did waxe more ſtrong

And I more luſty far, & far more yong.

This gift on him rich Nature did beſtow.

Then if in dreaming ſo, I ſo did ſpeede,

What ſhould I doe, if I did ſo indeede?

SONNET. VII.

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Sweet Thames I honour thee, not for thou art

The chiefeſt Riuer of the faireſt Ile,

Nor for thou doſt admirers eies beguile,

But for thou hold'ſt the keeper of my heart,

For on thy waues, (thy Chriſtal▪billow'd waues,)

My faireſt faire, my ſiluer Swan is ſwimming:

Againſt the ſunne his pruned feathers trimming▪

VVhilſt Neptune his faire feete with water laues,

Neptune, I feare not thee, not yet thine eie,

And yet (alas) Apollo lou'd a boy,

And Cypariſſus was Siluanus ioy.

No, no, I feare none but faire Thetis, I,

For if ſhe ſpie my Loue, (alas) aie me,

My mirth is turn'd to extreame miſerie.

SONNET. VIII.

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Sometimes I wiſh that I his pillow were,

So might I ſteale a kiſſe, and yet not ſeene,

So might I gaze vpon his ſleeping eine,

Although I did it with a panting feare:

But when I well conſider how vaine my wiſh is,

Ah fooliſh Bees (thinke I) that doe not lucke,

His lips for hony; but poore flowers doe plucke

Which haue no ſweet in them: when his ſole kiſſes,

Are able to reuiue a dying ſoule.

Kiſſe him, but ſting him not, for if you doe,

His angry voice your flying will purſue:

But when they heare his tongue, what can controule,

Their back▪returne? for then they plaine may ſee,

How hony-combs from his lips dropping bee.

SONNET. IX.

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Diana (on a time) walking the wood,

To ſport herſelfe, of her faire traine forlorne,

Chaunc't for to pricke her foote againſt a thorne,

And from thence iſſu'd out a ſtreame of blood.

No ſooner ſhee was vaniſht out of ſight,

But loues faire Queen came there away by chāce,

And hauing of this hap a glym'ring glance,

She put the blood into a chriſtall bright.

When being now comne vnto mount Rhodope,

With her faire hands ſhe formes a ſhape of Snow,

And blends it with this blood; from whence doth grow

A louely creature, brighter then the Dey.

And being chriſtned in faire Paphos ſhrine,

She call'd him Ganymede: as all diuine.

SONNET. X.

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Thus was my loue, thus was my Ganymed,

(Heauens ioy, worlds wonder, natures faireſt work,

In whoſe aſpect Hope and Diſpaire doe lurke)

Made of pure blood in whiteſt ſnow yſhed,

And for ſweete Venus only form'd his face,

And his each member delicately framed,

And laſt of all faire Ganymede him named,

His limbs (as their Creatrix) her imbrace.

But as for his pure, ſpotles, vertuous minde,

Becauſe it ſprung of chaſte Dianaes blood▪

(Goddeſſe of Maides, directreſſe of all good,)

Hit wholy is to chaſtity inclinde.

And thus it is: as far as I can proue,

He loues to be belou'd, but not to loue,

SONNET. XI.

[Page]

Sighing, and ſadly ſitting by my Loue,

He ask't the cauſe of my hearts ſorrowing▪

Coniuring me by heauens eternall King

To tell the cauſe which me ſo much did moue.

Compell'd: (quoth I) to thee I will confeſſe,

Loue is the cauſe; and onely loue it is

That doth depriue me of my heauenly bliſſe.

Loue is the paine that doth my heart oppreſſe.

And what is ſhe (quoth he) whō thou do'ſt loue?

Looke in this glaſſe (quoth I) there ſhalt thou ſee

The perfect for me of my faelicitie.

When, thinking that it would ſtrāge Magique proue,

He open'd it: and taking off the couer,

He ſtraight perceau'd himſelfe to be my Louer.

SONNET. XII.

[Page]

Some talke of Ganymede th' Idalian Boy,

And ſome offaire Adonis make their boaſt,

Some talke of him whom louely Lada loſt,

And ſome of Ecchoes loue that was ſo coy.

They ſpeake by heere-ſay, 1 of perfect truth,

They partially commend the perſons named,

And for them, ſweete Encomions haue framed:

I onely t'him haue ſacrifiz'd my youth.

As for thoſe wonders of antiquitie,

And thoſe whom later ages haue inioy'd,

(But ah what hath not cruell death deſtroide?

Death, that enuies this worlds felicitie.)

They were (perhaps) leſſe faire then Poets write,

But he is fairer then I can indite.

SONNET. XIII.

[Page]

Speake Eccho, tell; how may I call my loue? Loue.

But how his Lamps that are ſo chriſtaline? Eyne.

Oh happy ſtarts that make your heauens diuine:

And happy Iems that admiration moue.

How tearm'ſt his goldē treſſes wau'd with aire? Haire.

Oh louely haire of your more-louely Maiſter,

Image of loue, faire ſhape of Alablaſter,

Why do'ſt thou driue thy Louer to diſpaire?

How do'ſt thou cal the bed wher beuty grows▪ Roſe.

Faire virgine-Roſe, whoſe mayden bloſſoms couer

The milke-white Lilly, thy imbracing Louer:

Whoſe kiſſes makes thee oft thy red to loſe.

And bluſhing oft for ſhame whē he hath kiſt thee,

He vades away, & thou raing'ſt where it liſt thee.

SONNET. XIIII.

[Page]

Here; hold this gloue (this milk-white cheueril gloue)▪

Not quaintly ouer-wrought with curious knots,

Nor deckt with golden ſpangs, nor ſiluer ſpots;

Yet wholſome for thy hand as thou ſhalt proue.

Ah no: (ſweet boy) place this gloue neere thy heart,

Weare it, and lodge it ſtill within thy breſt,

So ſhalt thou make me (moſt vnhappy,) bleſt▪

So ſhalt thou rid my paine, and caſe my ſmart:

How can that be (perhaps) thou wilt reply,

A gloue is for the hand▪ not for the heart,

Nor can it well be prou'd by common art,

Nor reaſons rule. To this, thus anſwere I:

If thou from gloue do'ſt take away the g,

Then gloue is loue: and ſo I ſend it thee.

SONNET. XV.

[Page]

A faireſt Ganymede, diſdaine me not,

Though ſilly Sheepeheard I, preſume to loue thee,

Though my harſh ſongs & Sonnets cannot moue thee,

Yet to thy beauty is my loue no blot.

Apollo, Ioue, and many Gods, beſide,

S'daind not the name of cūtry ſhepheards ſwains,

Nor want we pleaſure, though we take ſome pains,

We liue contentedly: a thing call'd pride,

Which ſo corrupts the Court and euery place,

(Each place I meane where learning is neglected,

And yet of late, euen learnings ſelfe's infected)

I know not what it meanes, in any caſe:

Wee onely (when Molorchus gins to peepe)

Learne for to folde, and to vnfold our ſheepe.

SONNET. XVI.

[Page]

Long haue I long'd to ſee my Loue againe,

Still haue I wiſht, but neuer could obtaine it;

Rather than all the world (if I might gaine it)

Would I deſire my loues ſweet precious gaine.

Yet in my ſoule I ſee him euerie day,

See him, and ſee his ſtill ſterne countenaunce▪

But (ah) what is of long continuance,

Where Maieſtie and Beautie beares the ſway?

Sometimes, when I imagine that I ſee him,

(As loue is full of fooliſh fantaſies)

VVeening to kiſſe his lips, as my loues fee▪s▪

I feele but Aire: nothing but Aire to bee him.

Thus with Ixion, kiſſe I cloudes in vaine:

Thus with Ixion, feele I endles paine.

SONNET. XVII.

[Page]

Cherry-lipt Adonis in his ſnowie ſhape,

Might not compare with his pure Iuorie white,

On whoſe faire front a Poets pen may write,

Whoſe roſiate red excels the crimſon grape,

His loue-enticing delicate ſoft limbs,

Are rarely fram'd t'intrap poore gazing eies:

His cheekes, the Lillie and Carnation dies,

With louely tincture which Apolloes dims.

His lips ripe ſtrawberries in Nectar wet,

His mouth a Hiue, his tongue a hony-combe,

Where Muſes (like Bees) make their manſion.

His teeth pure Pearle in bluſhing Correll ſet,

Oh how can ſuch a body ſinne-procuring,

Be ſlow to loue, and quicke to hate, enduring▪

SONNET. XVIII.

[Page]

Not Megabaetes, nor Cleonymus,

(Of whom great Plutarck makes ſuch mention,

Prayſing their faire with rare inuention)

As Ganymede were halfe ſo beauteous.

They onely pleas'd the eies of two great Kings,

But all the worlde at my loue ſtands amazed▪

Nor one that on his Angels face hath gazed▪

But (rauiſht with delight) him Preſents brings.

Some weaning Lambs, and ſome a ſuckling Kyd,

Some Nuts, and fil-beards, others Peares & Plums,

Another with a milk-white Heyfar comes;

As lately Aegons man (Damaetas) did:

But neither he, nor all the Nymphs beſide,

Can win my Ganymede; with them t'abide.

SONNET. XIX.

[Page]

Ah no; nor I my ſelfe: though my pure loue

(Sweete Ganymede to thee hath ſtill beene pure,

And euen till my laſt gaſpe ſhall aie endure,

Could euer thy obdurate beuty moue:

Then ceaſe oh Goddeſſe ſonne (for ſure thou art,

A Goddeſſe ſonne that canſt reſiſt deſire)

Ceaſe thy hard heart, and entertaine loues fire,

Within thy ſacred breaſt: by Natures art.

And as I loue thee more then any Creature,

(Loue thee, becauſe thy beautie is diuine;

Loue thee, becauſe my ſelfe, my ſoule is thine;

Wholie deuoted to thy louelie feature)

Euen ſo of all the vowels, I and V,

Are deareſt vnto mee, as doth enſue.

SONNET. XX.

[Page]

But now my Muſe toyld with continuall care,

Begins to faint, and ſlacke her former pace,

Expecting fauour from that heauenly grace,

That maie (in time) her feeble ſtrength repaire.

Till when (ſweete youth) th' eſſence of my ſoule,

(Thou that doſt ſit and ſing at my hearts griefe.

Thou that doſt ſend thy ſhepheard no reliefe)

Beholde, theſe lines; the ſonnes of Peares and Dole.

Ah had great Colin chiefe of ſheepheards all,

Or gentle Rowland, my profeſſed friend,

Had they thy beautie, or my pennance pend,

Greater had beene thy fame, and leſſe my fall:

But ſince that euerie one cannot be wittie,

Pardon l craue of them, and of thee, pitty.

FINIS.

AN ODE.

[Page]

NIghts were ſhort, and daies were long;

Bloſſoms on the Hauthorn's hung:

Philomaele (Night-Muſicues King)

Tolde the comming of the ſpring.

Whoſe ſweete ſiluer-ſounding voice

Made the little birds reioice:

Skipping light from ſpray to ſpray,

Till Aurora ſhew'd the day.

Scarce might one ſee, when I might ſee

(For ſuch chaunces ſudden bee)

By a well of Marble-ſtone,

A Shepheard lying all alone.

Weepe he did; and his weeping

Made the fading flowers ſpring.

Daphnis was his name (I weene)

Youngeſt Swaine of Summers Queene.

VVhen Aurora ſaw t'was he.

Weepe ſhe did for companie▪

[Page] Weepe ſhe did for her ſweete ſonne,

That (when antique Troy was wonne)

Suffer'd death by luckleſſe fate,

Whom ſhe now laments too late:

And each morning (by Cocks crew)

Showers downe her ſiluer dew.

Whoſe teares (falling from their ſpring)

Giue moyſture to each liuing thing,

That on earth increaſe and grow,

Through power of their friendlie foe.

Whoſe effect when Flora felt,

Teares, that did her boſome melt,

(For who can reſiſt teares often,

But Shee whom no teares can ſoften?)

Peering ſtraite aboue the banks,

Shew'd herſelfe to giue her thanks.

Wondring thus at Natures worke,

(Wherein many maruailes lurke)

[Page] Me thought I heard a dolefull noiſe,

Conſorted with a mournfull voice,

Drawing nie to heare more plaine,

Heare I did, vnto my paine,

(For who is not pain'd to heare

Him in griefe whom heart holdes deare?)

Silly ſwaine (with griefe ore-gone)

Thus to make his piteous mone.

Loue I did, (alas the while)

Loue I did, but did beguile

My deare loue with louing ſo,

(VVhom as then I did not know.)

Loue I did the faireſt boy,

That theſe fields did ere enioy.

Loue I did faire Ganymed;

(Venus darling, beauties bed:)

Him I thought the faireſt creature;

Him the quinteſſence of Nature:

[Page] But yet (alas) I was deceiu'd,

(Loue of reaſon is bereau'd)

For ſince then I ſaw a Laſſe,

(Laſle) that did in beauty paſſe,

(Paſſe) faire Ganymede as farre

As Phoebus doth the ſmalleſt ſtarre.

Loue commaunded me to loue;

Fancy bade me not remoue

My affection from the ſwaine

Whom I neuer could obtaine:

(For who can obtaine that fauour,

Which he cannot graunt the crauer?)

Loue at laſt (though loath) preuailde;

(Loue) that ſo my heart aſſailde;

Wounding me with her faire eies,

(Ah how Loue can ſubtelize,

And deuize a thouſand ſhifts,

How to worke men to his drifts)

[Page] Her it is, for whom I mourne;

Her, for whom my life I ſcorne;

Her, for whom I weepe all day;

Her, for whom I ſigh, and ſay,

Either She▪ or els no creature,

Shall enioy my loue: whoſe ceature

Though I neuer can obtaine,

Yet ſhall my true loue remaine:

Till (my body turn'd to clay)

My poore ſoule muſt paſſe away,

To the heauens; where (I hope)

Hit ſhall finde a reſting ſcope:

Then ſince I loued thee (alone)

Remember me when I am gone.

Scarce had he theſe laſt words ſpoken,

But me thought his heart was broken;

With great griefe that did abound,

(Cares and griefe the heart confound)

[Page] In whoſe heart (thus riu'd in three)

ELIZA written I might ſee:

In Caracters of crimſon blood,

(VVhoſe meaning well I vnderſtood.)

VVhich, for my heart might not behold,

I hyed me home my ſheepe to folde.

FINIS.

CASSANDRA.

[Page]

VPon a gorgious gold emboſſed bed,

With Tiſſue curtaines drawne againſt the ſunne,

(Which gazers eies into amazement led,

So curiouſly the workmanſhip was done,)

Lay faire Caſſandra▪ in her ſnowie ſmocke,

Whoſe lips the Rubies and the pearles did locke.

And from her Iuory front hung dangling downe,

A buſh of long and louely curled haire;

VVhoſe head impalled with a precious Crowne

Of orient Pearle, made her to ſeeme more faire:

And yet more faire ſhe hardly could be thought,

Then Loue and Nature in her face had wrought.

By this young Phoetus riſing from the Eaſt,

Had tane a view of this rare Paragon:

Wherewith he ſoone his radiant beames addreſt,

And with great ioy her (ſleeping) gaz'd vpon:

Til at the iaſt, through her bright caze mēts cleare,

He ſtole a kiſſe: and ſoftly call'd her Deare.

[Page]

Yet not ſo ſoftly but (thetewith awak't,)

Shee gins to open her faire chriſt all couers,

Wherewith the wounded God, for terror quakt,

(Viewing thoſe darts that kill diſdained louers:)

And bluſhing red to ſee himſelfe ſo ſhamed

He ſcorns his Coach, & his owne beauty blamed.

Now with a trice he leaues the azures skies,

(As whilome Ioue did at Europaes rape,)

And rauiſht with her loue-aluring eies,

He turns himſelfe into a humane ſhape:

And that his wiſh the ſooner might enſue,

He ſutes himſelfe like one of Venus crew.

Vpon his head he wore a Hunters hat,

Of crimſon veluet, ſpangd with ſtars of gold,

Which grac'd his louely face: and ouer that▪

A ſiluer hatband ritchly to behold:

On his left ſhoulder hung a looſe Tyara,

As whilome vs'd faire Pentheſilea.

[Page]

Faire Pentheſilea th' Amazonian Queene,

When ſhe to Troy came with her warlike band,

Of braue Viragoes glorious to be ſeene;

Whoſe manlike force no power might withſtand:

So look't Apollo in his louely weedes,

As he vnto the I▪roian Damzell ſpeedes.

Not faire Adonis in his chiefeſt pride,

Did ſeeme more faire, then young Apollo ſeemed,

When he through th▪aire inuiſibly did glide,

T'obraine his Loue, which he Angelike deemed:

Whom finding in her chamber all alone,

He thus begins t'expreſſe his pitcous mone.

O faireſt, faire, aboue all faires (quoth hee,)

If euer Loue obtained Ladies fauour,

Then ſhew thy ſelfe compaſſionate to me,

Whoſe heart ſurpriz'd with thy diuine behauiour,

Yeelds my ſelfe captiue to thy conqu'ring eies:

Oh then ſhew mercy, doe not tyrannize.

[Page]

Scarce had Apollo vtter'd theſe laſt words,

Rayning downe pearle from his immortall cies,)

VVhen the for anſwere, naught but feare affords,

Filling the place with lamentable cries:

But Phoe bus fearing much theſe raging fits,

VVith ſugred kiſſes ſweetely charm'd her lips.

And tell's her ſoftly in her ſofter eare,)

That he a God is, and no mortall creature:

Where with abandoning all needleſſe feare,

(A common frailtie of weake womans nature)

She boldly askes him of his deitie,

Gracing her queſtion with her wanton eie.

Which charge to him no ſooner was aſſignde.

But taking faire Caſſandra by the hand

(The [...]e be wraier of his ſecrete minde)

He firſt begins to let her vnderſtand,

That he from Demogorgon was deſeended:

Father ofth' Earth, of Gods & men commended.

[Page]

The tenor of which tale he now recites,

Cloſing each period with a rauiſht kiſle:

VVhich kindnes, ſhe vnwillingly requites,

Conioyning oft her Corrall lips to his:

Not that ſhe lou'd the loue of any one;

But that ſhe meant to cozen him anone.

Hee briefly t'her relates his pedegree:

The ſonne of loue, ſole guider of the ſunne,

He that ſlue Pychon ſo victoriouſlie,

He that the name of wiſdomes God hath wonne,

The God of Muſique, and of Poetry:

Of Phiſicke, Learning, and Chirurgery.

All which he eloquently reckons vp,

That ſhe might know how great a God he was:

And beeing charm'd with Cupids golden cup

He partiallie vnto her praiſe doth paſſe,

Calling her tipe of honour, Queene of beauty:

To whom all eies owe tributary duety.

[Page]

I loued once, (quoth hee) aie me I lou'd,

As faire a ſhape as euer nature framed:

Had ſhe not been ſo hard t'haue beene remou'd,

By birth a ſea▪Nymph; cruell Daphne named:

Whom, for ſhee would not to my will agree,

The Gods transform'd into a Laurell tree.

Ah therefore be not, (with that word he kiſt her)

Be not (quot he) ſo proud as Daphne was:

Ne care thou for the anger of my ſiſter,

She cannot, nay ſhe ſhall not hurt my Caſſ:

For if ſhe doe, I vow (by dreadfull night)

Neuer againe to lend her of my light.

This ſaid: he ſweetly doth imbrace his loue▪

Yoaking his armes about her Iuory necke:

And call's her wanton Venus milk-white Doue,

VVhoſe ruddie lips the damaske roſes decke.

And euer as his tongue compiles her praiſe,

Loue daintie Dimples in her cheekes doth raiſe.

[Page]

And meaning now to worke her ſtratagem

Vpon the ſilly God, that thinks none ill,

She hugs him in her armes, and kiſſes him;

Th' eaſlyer to intice him to her will.)

And being not able to maintaine the feeld,

Thus ſhe begins (or rather ſeemes) to yeeld.

VVoon with thy words, and rauiſht with thy beauty▪

Loe here Caſſandra yeelds her ſelfe to thee,

Requiring nothing for thy vowed duety,

But only firmneſle, Loue, and ſecrecy:

Which for that now (euen now) I mean to try thee

A boone I craue: which thou canſt not deny me.

Scarce were theſe honywords breath'd from her lips,

But he, ſuppoſing that ſhe ment good-faith▪

Her filed tongues temptations interceps;

And (like a Nonice,) thus to her he ſaith:

Aske what thou wilt, and I will giue it thee;

Health, wealth, long life, wit, art, or dignitie.

[Page]

Here-with ſhe bluſhing red, (for ſhame did adde

A crimſon tincture to her pa [...] hew,)

Seeming in outward ſemblance paſſing glad,

As one that th' end of her petition knew)

She makes him ſweare by vgly Acheron,

That he his promiſe ſhould performe anon.

VVhich done: relying on his ſacred oath,

She askes of him the gift of prophecie:

He (ſilent) giues conſent: though ſeeming loath

To graunt ſo much to fraile mortallitie:

But ſince that he his vowes ma [...]e not recall,

He giues to her the ſp'irite propheticall.

But ſhe no ſooner had obtain'd her wiſh,

VVhen ſtraite vnpr [...]s'ning her laſciuious armes

From his ſofte boſome (th'aluary of bliſſe)

She chaſtely counterchecks loues hote allarmes:

And fearing left his preſence might offend her,

She ſlips aſide: and (abſent) doth defend her.

(Multere ne credas, ne mortuae quidem.)

[Page]

Looke how a brightſome Planet in the skie,

(Spangling the Welkin with a golden ſpot)

Shootes ſuddenly from the beholders eie,

And leaues him looking there where ſhe is not:

Euen ſo amazed Phoebus (to diſcrie her)

Lookes all about, but no where can eſpie her.

Not th'hungry Lyon, hauing loſt his pray,

VVith greater furie runneth through the wood,

(Making no ſigne of momentarie ſtaie,

Till he haue ſatisfi'd himſelfe with blood,)

Then angry Phoe us mounts into the skie:

Threatning the world with his hot-burning eie.

Now nimbly to his gliſt'ring Coach he skips,

And churliſhlie aſcend's his loftie chaire,

Yerking his head ſtrong lades with yron whips,

Whoſe fearefull neighing ecchoes through the aire,

Snorting out fierie Sulphure from their noſethrils:

Whoſe deadly damp the worlds poore people kils.

[Page]

Him leaue me (for a while) amids the heauens,

VVreaking his anger on his ſturdie ſteedes:

Whoſe ſpeedful courſe the day & night now ceuens,

(The earth diſ-robed of her ſummer weedes)

And nowe black-mantled night with her browne vaile,

Couers each thing that all the world might quaile.

VVhen loe, Caſſandra lying at her reſt,

(Her reſt were reſtleſſe thoughts:) it ſo befell,

Her minde with multitude of cares oppreſt,

Requir'd ſome ſleepe her paſſions to expell:

VVhich when ſad Morpheus well did vnderſtand,

He clos'd her cie-lids with his leaden hand.

Now ſleepeth shee: and as ſhe ſleepes, beholde;

Shee ſeemes to ſee the God whom late shee wronged

Standing before her; whoſe fierce lookes vnfold▪

His hidden wrath (to whom inſtire belonged)

Seeing, shee fighs, and ſighing quak't for feare,

To ſee the shaddow of her shame appeare.

[Page]

Betwixt amaze and dread as shee thus ſtands,

The fearefull viſion drew more neere vnto her:

And pynioning her armes in captiue bands

So ſure, that mortall wight may not vndoe her,

He with a bloudy knife (oh cruell part,)

VVith raging fury ſtabd her to the heart.

Heerewith awaking from her ſlumbring ſleepe,

(For feare, and care, are enemies to reſt:)

At ſuch time as Aurora gins to peepe

And shew her ſelfe; far orient in the Eaſt:

Shee heard a voice which ſaid: O wicked woman

Why doſt thou ſtil the gods to vengeance ſummon

Thou shale (indeede) fore▪tell of things to come;

And truely too; (for why my vowes are paſt)

But heare the end of Iowes eternall doome:

Becauſe thy promiſe did ſo little laſt,

Although thou tell the truth, (this gift I giue thee)

Yet for thy falſehood, no man shall belecue thee.

[Page]

And (for thy ſake) this pennance I impoſe

Vpon the remnant of all woman kinde,

For that they be ſuch truth profeſſed foes;

A conſtant woman ſhall be hard to finde:

And that all fleſh at my dread name may tremble,

Whē they weep moſt, thē ſhal they moſt diſſemble.

This ſaid Apollo then: And ſince that time

His words haue proued true as Oracles:

Whoſe turning thoughtes ambitiouſly doe clime

To heauens height; and world with lightnes fils [...]

VVhoſe ſex are ſubiect to inconſtancie,

As other creatures are to deſtinie.

Yet famous Sabrine on thy banks doſt reſt

The faireſt Maide that euer world admired:

Whoſe conſtant minde, with heauenly giftes poſſeſt,

Makes her rare ſelfe of all the world deſired,

In whoſe chaſte thoughts no vanitie doth enter;

So pure a minde Endymions Loue hath lent her.

[Page]

Queene of my thoughts, but ſubiect of my verſe,

(Diuine Eliza) pardon my defect:

Whoſe artleſſe pen ſo rudely doth reherſe

Thy beauties worth; (for want of due reſpect)

Oh pardon thou the fullies of my youth;

Pardon my faith, my loue, my zeale, my truth.

But to Caſſandra now: who hauing heard

The cruell ſentence of the threatning voice;

At length (too late) begins to waxe affeard,

Lamenting much her vnrepentant choice:

And ſeeing her hard hap without reliefe,

She ſheeds ſalt teares in token of her griefe.

VVhich when Aurora ſaw, and ſaw t'was ſhee,

Euen ſhee her ſelfe whoſe far-renowmed fame

Made all the world to wonder at her beauty,

It mou'd compaſſion in this ruthfull Dame:

And thinking on her Sonnes ſad deſtnie.

With mournfull teares ſhe beares her companie.

[Page]

Great was the mone, which faire Caſſandra made:

Greater the kindneſſe, which Aurora ſhew'd:

VVhoſe ſorrow with the ſunne began to fade;

And her moiſt teares on th'earths greene graſſe beſtow'd:

Kiſſing the flowers with her ſiluer dew.

VVhoſe fading beautie, ſeem'd her caſe to rew.

Scarce was the louely Eaſterne Queene departed,

From ſtately Ilion; (whoſe proud-reared wals

Seem'd to controule the cloudes, till Vulcan darted

Againſt their Towers his burning fier-bals)

When ſweet Caſſandra (leauing her ſoft bed)

In ſeemely ſort her ſelfe apparelled.

And hearing that her honourable Sire,

(Old princely Pryamus Troy's aged King)

Was gone into Ioues Temple, to conſpire

Againſt the Greekes, (whom he to war did bring)

Shee (like a Furie (in a bedlam rage,

Runs gadding thither, his fell wrath t'aſſwage.

[Page]

But not preuailing: truely ſhe fore-tolde

The fall of Troy, (with bold orected face:)

They count her hare-braind, mad, and ouer-hold,

To preſſe in preſence in ſo graue a place:

But in meane ſeaſon Paris he is gone,

To bring deſtruction on faire Ilion.

What, ten-yeeres ſiedge by force could not ſubuert,

That, two falſe traitors in one night deſtroi'd:

Who richly guerdon'd for their bad deſert,

VVas of Aeneas but ſmall time inio [...]'d:

VVho, for concealement of Achilles loue,

VVas baniſhed; from Ilion to remoue.

King Pryam dead and all the Troians ſlaine;

(His ſonnes, his friends and deare confederates)

And lots now caſt for captines that remaine,

(Whom Death hath ſpared for more cruell fates)

Caſſandra then to Agamemnon fell,

With whom a Lemman ſhe diſdain'd to dwell.

[Page]

She, weepes; he, wooes; he, would, but ſhe would not▪

He, tell's his birth; ſhee, pleades virginitie:

He ſaith, ſelfe pride doth rareſt beauty blot:

(And with that word he kiſt her louingly:)

Shee, yeeldingly reſiſts; he fair es to die:

Shee, fall's for feare; he, on her feareleſlie.

But this braue generall of all the Greekes,

VVas quickly foyled at a womans hands,

For who ſo raſhly ſuch in counters ſeekes,

Of hard miſ-hap in danger euer ſtands:

Onely chaſte thoughts, and vertuous abſtinence,

Gainſt ſuch ſweet poyſon is the ſur'ſt defence.

But who can ſhun the force of beauties blow?

Who is not rauiſht with a louely looke?

Grac'd with a wanton eie, (the hearts dumb ſhew)

Such fiſh are taken with a filuer hooke:

And when true loue cannot theſe pearls obtaine,

Vnguentum Album is the only meane.

[Page]

Farre be it from my thought (duineſt Maid)

To haue relation to thy heauenly hew▪

(In whoſe ſweet voice the Muſes are imbaid)

No pen can paint thy commendations due:

Saue only that pen, which no pen can be,

An Angels quill, to make a pen for thee.

But to returne to theſe vnhappie Louers,

(Sleeping ſecurely in each others armes,)

VVhoſe ſugred ioies nights ſable mantle couers,

Little regarding their enſuing harmes:

VVhich afterward they iointhe both repented:

"Fate is fore-ſeene, but neuer is preuented.

VVhich ſaying to be true, this luckleſſe Dame

Approued in the ſequele of her ſtory:

Now waxing pale, now bluſhing red (for ſhame)

Shee ſeales her lips with ſilence, (womens glory)

Till, Agamemnon vrging her replies,

Thus of his death she truely prophecies.

[Page]

The day ſhall come, (quoth ſhe) ô diſmall daie!

When thou by falſe Aegiſtus ſhalt be ſlaine:

Heere could ſhe tell no more; but made a ſtay.

(From further ſpeech as willing to refraine:)

Not knowing then, nor little did ſhe thinke,

That ſhe with him of that ſame cup muſt drinke.

But what? (fond man) he laughes her skil to ſcorne,

And icſteth at her diuination:

Ah to what vnbeliefe are Princes borne?

(The onely ouer-throw of many a Nation:)

And ſo it did befall this luckleſſe Prince,

Whom all the world hath much lamented ſince:

Inſteede of teares, he ſmileth at hertale:

Inſteede of grieſe, he makes great ſhew of gladnes:

But after bliſſe, there euer followes bale;

And after mirth, there alwaiys commeth ſadnes:

But gladneſſe, bliſſe, and mirth had ſo poſſeſt him,

That ſadnes, bale, & griefe, could not moleſt him.

[Page]

Oh cruell Parcoe (quoth Caſſandra then)

Why are you Parce, yet not mou'd with praier?

Oh ſmall ſecurity of mortall men,

That liue on earth, and breathe this vitall aire▪

When we laugh moſt, then are we next to ſorrow;

The Birds feede vs to day, we them to morrow.

But if the firſt did little moue his minde,

Her later ſpeeches leſſe with him preuailed;

Who being wholy bent to ſelfe-will inclinde,

Deemes her weake braine with lunacy aſſailed:

And ſtill the more shee councels him to ſtay,

The more he ſtriueth to make haſte away.

How on the Seas he ſeap'd ſtormes, rocks & ſholes,

(Seas that enuide the conqueſt he had wone,

Gaping like hell to ſwallow Greekiſh ſoules,)

I heere omit; onely ſuppoſe it done:

His ſtorm-tyrde Barke ſafely brings him to ſhore,

His whole Fleete els, or ſuncke or loſt before.

[Page]

Lift vp thy head, thou aſhie-cyndred Troy,

See the commaunder of thy traitor foes,

That made thy laſt nights woe, his firſt daies ioie,

Now gins his night of ioy and daie of wees:

His fall be thy d light, thine was his pride:

As he thee then, ſo now thou him deride.

He and Caſsandra now are ſet on ſhore,

VVhich he ſalutes with ioy, ſhe greetes with teares,

Currors are ſent that poaſt to Court before,

Whoſe tidings hll [...]h'adultrous Queene with feares,

Who with Aegiſtus in a loſt ſtaind bed,

Her ſelfe, her King, her ſtate diſhonored.

Shee wakes the lecher with a loud-ſtraind ſhrike,

Loue-toies they leaue, now doth loment begin:

Ile flie (quoth he) our ſhe doth that miſlike,

Guilt vnto guilt, and ſinne ſhe ad to ſinne:

Shee meanes to kill (immodeſt loue to couer)

A kingly husband, for a caytiue louer.

[Page]

The peoples ioies, conceiued at his returne,

Their thronging multitudes: their gladſome cries,

Their gleeful hymnes, whiles piles of incenſe burne:

Their publique shewes, kept at ſolemnities:

We paſſe: and tell how King & Queene did meet,

Where he with zeale, ſhe him with guile did greet.

He (noble Lord) feareleſſe of hidden treaſon,

Sweetely ſalutes this weeping Crocodile:

Excuſing euery cauſe with inſtant reaſon

That kept him from her ſight ſo long a while:

Shee, faintly pardons him: ſmiling by Art:

(For life was in her lookes, death in her hart.)

For pledge that I am pleas'd receiue (quoth ſhee,)

This rich wrought robe, thy Clytemneſtraes toile:

Her ten yeeres worke this day shall honour thee,

For ten yeeres war, and one daies glorious ſpoile:

Whil'ſt thou contendedſt there, I heere did this:

Weare it my loue, my life, my ioy, my bliſſe,

[Page]

Searce had the Syren ſaid, what I haue writ,

But he (kind Prince) by her milde words miſled,

Receiu'd the robe, to trie if it were fit;

(The robe) that had no iſſue for his head:

Which, whil'ſt he vainly hoped to haue found,

Aegiſtaes pierſt him with a mortal wound.

Oh how the Troyan Damzell was amazed,

To ſee ſo fell and bloudy a Tragedie,

Performed in one Act: ſhe naught but gazed,

Vpon the picture; whom ſhe dead did ſee,

Before her face: whoſe body ſhe emballms,

With brenniſh teares, and ſudden deadly qualms.

Faine would ſhe haue fled backe on her ſwift horſe,

But Clytemneſtra bad her be content,

Her time was com'n: now booteleſſe vs'd ſhe force,

Againſt ſo many; whom this Tygreſſe ſent

To apprehene her: who (within one hower

Brought backe againe) was lockt within a Tower.

[Page]

Now is ſhe ioyleſſe, friendleſſe, and (in fine)

VVithout all hope of further libertie:

In ſteed of cates, cold water was her wine,

And Agamemnons corps her meate muſt be,

Or els ſhe muſt for hunger ſtarue (poore ſole)

What could she do but make great mone & dole.

So darke the dungeon was, wherein she was,

That neither Sunne (by day) nor Mone (by night)

Did shew themſelues: and thus it came to paſſe.

The Sunne denide to lend his glorious light

To ſuch a periur'd wight, or to be ſeene;

(What neede shee light, that ouer-light had bin?

Now ſilent night drew on: when all things ſleepe,

Saue theeues, & cares: & now ſtil mid-night came:

VVhen ſad Caſſandra did naught els but weepe;

Oft calling on her Agamemnons name.

But ſeeing that the dead did not replie,

Thus she begins to mourne, lament, and crie.

[Page]

Oh cruell Fortune, (mother of diſpaire,)

Well art thou chriſten'd with a cruell name:

Since thou regardeſt not the wiſe, or faire,

But do'ſt beſtow thy riches (to thy shame)

On fooles & lowly ſwaines, that care not for thee▪

And yet I weepe, and yet thou do'ſt abhorre me,

Fie on ambition, fie on filthy pride,

The roote of ill, the cauſe of all my woe:

On whoſe fraile yee my youth firſt ſlipt aſide:

And falling downe▪ receru'd a fatall blow.

Ah who hath liu'd to ſee ſuch miſerie

As I haue done, and yet I cannot die?

I liu'd (quoth she) to ſee Troy ſet a fire:

I liu'd to ſee, renowmed Hector ſlaine:

I liu'd to ſee, the shame of my deſire:

And yet I liue, to feele more grienous paine:

Let all young maides example take by me,

To keepe their oathes, and ſpotleſſe chaſtity,

[Page]

Happy are they, that neuer liu'd to know

What t'is to liue in this world happily:

Happy are they which neuer yet felt woe:

Happy are they, that die in infancie:

Whoſe ſins are cancell'd in their mothers wombe:

Whoſe cradle is their graue, whoſe lap their tomb.

Here ended shee: & then her teares began,

That (Chorus-like) at euery word downe rained,

VVhich like a paire of chriſtall fountaines ran,

A long her louely cheekes: with roſes ſtained:

VVhich as they wither ſtill (for want of raine)

Thoſe ſiluer showers water them againe.

Now had the poore-mans clock (shrili chauntcleare)

Twice giuen notice of the Mornes approach,

(That then began in glorie to appeare,

Drawne in her ſtately colour'd ſaffron-Coach)

VVhen shee (poore Lady) almoſt turn'd to teares,

Began to teare and rend her golden haires.

[Page]

Lie there (quoth shee) the workers of my woes;

You trifling toies, which my liues ſtaine haue bin▪

You, by whoſe meanes our coines chiefly growes,

Clothing the backe with pride, the ſoule with ſin:

Lie there (quoth shee) the cauſers of my care;

This ſaid, her robes shee all in peeces tare.

Here-with, as weary of her wretched life,

(VVhich shee inioy'd with ſmall faelicitie)

Thee ends her fortune with a fatall knife;

(Firſt day of ioy, laſt day of miſerie:)

Then why is death accounted Natures foe,

Since death (indeed) is but the end of woe?

For as by death, her bodie was releaſed

From that ſtrong priſon made of lime and ſtone;

Euen ſo by death her pureſt ſoule was caſed,

From bodies priſon, and from endleſſe mone:

VVhere now shee walkes in ſweete Elyſium,

(The place for wrongful Death and Martirdum.)

FINIS.

[Page]

Information about this book

Title statement

Cynthia VVith certaine sonnets, and the legend of Cassandra.

Barnfield, Richard, 1574-1627.

Edition statement

1595

Publication

Publisher

Text Creation Partnership,

Place of publication

Ann Arbor, MI ; Oxford (UK) :

Date

2007-01 (EEBO-TCP Phase 1).

ID [DLPS]

A68287

ID [STC]

STC 1484

ID [STC]

ESTC S104851

ID [EEBO-CITATION]

99840582

ID [PROQUEST]

99840582

ID [VID]

5100

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Series

Early English books online.

Notes

(EEBO-TCP ; phase 1, no. A68287)

Transcribed from: (Early English Books Online ; image set 5100)

Images scanned from microfilm: (Early English books, 1475-1640 ; 172:05, 172:06)

Source

— Cynthia VVith certaine sonnets, and the legend of Cassandra., Barnfield, Richard, 1574-1627..

Extent

[72] p.

Printed for Humfrey Lownes, and are to bee sold at the vvest doore of Paules,. At London :: 1595.. (Dedication signed: Richard Barnefeilde.) (In verse.) (Signatures: A⁴ B-E.) (The last leaf is blank.) (In this edition, the last line of the imprint reads: of Paules. 1595.) (Bodleian Library copy identified as STC 1483 on UMI microfilm.) (Reproductions of the originals in the Bodleian Library and the Henry E. Huntington Library and Art Gallery.) (Copies appear consecutively on reel 172.)

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